Today's Thoughts

Thanksgiving 2013.

I would be amiss if I didn't take a moment in between the sauteing of celery, and the folding of napkins to stop in and wish you all a Happy Thanksgiving!

 May your turkey be tender, and your stuffing moist - may your gravy be smooth, and your pies not weep.

May the family and friends around your table fill those spots in your heart that the cranberry sauce can't reach, no matter how hard it tries, or how hard you try to make it.

 May you reflect on the past year - the joys and the suffering, and may you embrace it all with the realization that it is all necessary to form you into the person you are today. 

For it is suffering that brings us to a place of Thanksgiving - just as it did the Pilgrims - embrace it.  

Give extra love to those family members and friends that have suffered this year.  

I'm so very thankful for all of you!

You've no idea how you've carried me this past year as I've been in such an introspective place.

You've given me love, laughter, perspective, and hope.

Thank you.

I am grateful for what I am and have.  My thanksgiving is perpetual.  O how I laugh when I think of my vague indefinite riches.  No run on my bank can drain it, for my wealth is not possession, but enjoyment.

Henry David Thoreau

Now - for the love of God - stay home and don't go shopping today.

: -)

Hunkered

Just a quick pop in today to let you know how much I appreciated the warm welcome back!

I've responded to your comments in the comments on the last post.

You've positively infused me!

Seriously - thank you.

Yesterday, we had big storms roll through the area. 

Thankfully - the damage here was minimal.

Am I the only one that glues her face to the window during a storm?  

I know it's a REALLY bad idea, but I can't seem to help it.

As soon as the storm passes, I also have to get in the car and drive around to see the carnage before people have a chance to clean it up.

It's fascinating to me.

The power of nature.

The reminder of how truly out of control we really are.

No power for about 18 hours, but my Amish-wannabe heart embraced it.

I almost felt a twinge of disappointment when it came back on.

Isn't it amazing how quiet things are without electricity?

All of the sudden, you've nothing to do.

: -)

I'll be back very soon.

Thanks again for the welcome back.

xo

When It's Not Easy

So, it's been like a month since I've been here.

I've no clue where to start or what to say, or if anyone is still around to read any of it.

Aaron will be moving back in within a matter of days.

I've been to Missouri and back.

I recovered from the Shingles.

I've been brunette and back to blonde.

Aaron still refuses to give me bangs.

I've just felt quiet.

My soul has been busy growing.

My rear end as well, but that's for another blog, another day.

I'm not sure that there's a point in trying to catch up at this moment, so I'm just going to jump in with both feet here and start talking about today, and,  ok, -  last week and yesterday.

:-)

If you've been a blog reader for any amount of time - you know the following about me:

I contradict myself often - because I change my mind like the wind, 

which makes me seem a little nuts.

I share my life openly.

I try to do too much.

I think too much.

I'm enthusiastic.

I start things and don't finish them.

I fly by the seat of my pants.

I'm driven largely by whim.

I'm obsessed with self improvement.

And this might be a good time to interject that I'm thinking about and sort of planning on joining the community theater here because it's on my bucket list.

You also know that I've lost over 100lbs and I struggle to keep it off.

You also know I want to live a very simple, debt free life.

You also know that I adore home and family above all, and want to stay home and embrace minimalism.

It all sounds so good doesn't it?

Sometimes you wish you were me, don't you?

Hold that thought.

It's not always pretty, and it's not always easy.

Last week was particularly hard.  I had moments of such self doubt.  I had moments of looking at the bank account and realizing I really couldn't afford to stay home.  I thought that I had to be positively mad to even think that I had such a luxury.  Surely - we've come accustomed to a certain level of comfort - like eating - and unless I hightailed it to town and got me a proper job - we might not do that in the upcoming weeks.

What is enough?

What is financially comfortable?

What is normal?

What is security?

Why do we constantly compare ourselves to others?

Why don't we live in this moment and not waste this moment fearing the next?

Why do we live in a constant state of what if's?

Why don't we realize how precious each moment is?

Why do we oftentimes blur the line between needs and wants?

In my heart of hearts - if I made a list of things that made me feel rich - they would include - 

my faith

good friends

good music

my health

a peaceful heart

nature

my garden

my chickens

I can't shake the feeling that we are getting it all wrong in this country.  I can't shake the feeling that we think it's normal to work and stress ourselves half to death to make ends meet, or try to 'get ahead' or have everything that everyone else has.  I think the world needs more people that will grow a garden, raise a chicken, be a real neighbor, and stay home and raise their children.  I can't shake the feeling that most people don't even really know what it is that makes them happy.  I feel that so many of us have just lost ourselves in the "American Dream".

My heart's desire, my dream, and how I want to, and try to live - is to let money flow through me.  I get - I give.  I want to give my last dollar to someone who needs it more than I do.

 But why, at times, does it seems so scary to live by faith that there will be enough left for me?  

Last night, as I was sewing at the sewing machine - I looked out the window, just as the moon was coming up - dinner was simmering on the stove, candles were burning about the house making it smell like autumn tied up with a bow, and Beethoven was playing on the CD player. 

 The moment just stopped me in my tracks.  I just stared at that moon, and listened to the music, and enjoyed the incredible peaceful moment of the home I've created.

That moon, that beautiful, faithful moon.  Always there, even though we can't see it at times.  It just reminded me so of the presence of God in our lives - always there, even though we don't feel it at times.

My faith grew leaps and bounds last night, and as I turned my attention back to the quilts I was sewing.  I realized I had more than enough, and that I always, always would have.

There is nothing to fear my friends.

Find your joy.

PS  - I seriously adore you all!

The Tang of Happiness

Today I woke up to yet another dreary NW Indiana morning.

I double dosed my vitamin D3.

I said out loud 'this is going to be a great day!' about three times.

I needed a project, and I needed one quick.

I decided that I'd deep clean the kitchen and eliminate every little thing that I haven't used in the last year, or that just seemed like excess.

I have TWO four-cup measuring cups.  One's gotta go.

Then I think 'what if I break one?'

What if I don't?

I'm just so done with stuff y'all.

So, anyhoo - with my ADHD in rare form - while cleaning and minimizing, I decided I needed some curtain panels to feather the kitchen nest a little bit.  It's a bit contrary to the whole minimalist thing isn't it?  

: -)

I went to JoAnn Fabrics in my little yellow Bug with The Mamas and the Papas blaring.

It broke my heart to think of Mama Cass dying.

What a talent, what a voice.

I'm still trying to get used to being alone so much - but when it comes to fabric shopping, sometimes you just should be.  A side note.  Something I've started doing when I see what I consider a striking woman about my age - I go up to them and tell them that they are very pretty.  We all need to hear it - especially at this age.  I saw the most attractive African American woman today - she was so cool looking and eccentric.  I told her how beautiful she was.  She told me to have a blessed day.

It's the Tang of happiness, that is - giving a total stranger a sincere compliment.

Instantly - you feel better.

 I bought some fabric, but I don't think it's right for the kitchen.  I surely thought it would be since I'm totally in love with it - and I'm starting to believe that to decorate you just need to use whatever you love and it will all work.

Well...does it?

I don't want to cut it until I know I'll keep it...so I just hung it like this...

I think the pattern seems busy with the wallpaper border than Glenco won't let me take down.

Surely, it's gonna come back in style soon!

OK..the real reason for today's post?

I wanted you to read this:

Becoming Minimalist

I wish I wrote that. 

 It was always in my heart - but to read it in printed words - I just love it so, and wanted to share.

Carry on.

(5:37pm update - the fabric is going back.  I adore it, but the house is rejecting it...: -) )

Gluten Free Pumpkin Bread & Carpet Decisions

First...let's discuss the floor.

The original hardwood floors are in the living room.

Did your jaw just fall?

 Did you just think 'why in the Sam Hill did that girl cover those up?'

Did your opinion of me just go down a tad?

Be honest.

Hear me out.

I lived here with the hardwood floor and an area rug for the first 15 years here.  The rest of the house is the original hardwood floors - no carpet.  I never had wall to wall carpet in all my born days.

When I redecorated the living room I just wanted to know what it would be like to have wall to wall.  It seemed decadent, it seemed luxurious.

It seemed like the adult thing to do.

It was.

For about a year.

 Then I was over it - and started vacuuming obsessively, freaking out at what might be 

lurking in the twisted fibers.

Now?  It seems positively disgusting to me, and it takes great restraint not to pull it right up and off the floor.

I don't presently have the cash for a divorce lawyer, so it remains.

The odd thing is this.

The hardwood floor in the kitchen runs north and south.  The hardwood floor in the bedroom runs east and west.  The hardwood floor in the living room runs on a diagonal.  All of these floors converge in the center near the basement door, and well...it's a bit wonky.  Also - there is a large square of plywood right at the entrance of the living room where there was a floor furnace.  When I had the hardwood, I left the metal grate there, now, it's gone. That will need repair.

When this will happen?

After the holidays for sure - and when I can butter up Glen and convince him that we are dying a slow death by dust mites and need shed of the carpet at once.

OK...onward.

It's fall, glorious fall!  It's time for hoodies, hot cider, the sound of the oven preheating, and general hunkering in the house.

If you've been a reader for any length of time, y'all know how much I love to bake.

The scent of a pumpkin bread baking in the house, to me - just completes the ambiance of home.

I've been making this bread for a bit - since it's gluten free.

This morning, I doubled the recipe with success.

Now...this recipe is different.

It's made with almond flour, and actually very healthy ingredients.  It's sweetened with a banana, and just 1 T of honey per loaf!

It doesn't look, nor does it have the texture of something baked traditionally.

The clincher is just not to eat the whole loaf.

For me, it's just nice to enjoy something that's not going to give me joint pain, a muddled mind or diabetes.

Also...you really need to let the danged thing cool all the way before you cut it and attempt to eat it, otherwise it will just be like mush.

Not that I have first hand experience with this - I read it on the Internet.

: -)

Here's the recipe - 

http://makewithyourhands.blogspot.com/2013/09/paleo-pumpkin-bread.html

I'm not sure what planet they live on to think this makes 14 servings.  I'd say 6 tops.

Also, it does have a banana in it, and for those of you that don't like bananas, you really can't taste it at all.

For those of you that don't like pumpkin, I'd like you to quietly gather your belongings, and leave.

: -)

ENJOY your day!

I Think - Therefore I Talk

It's come to my attention that I would sound a lot less crazy and all over the board if perhaps I didn't verbalize my entire thought process on every.little.thing.

Let's take carpet.

I need a new one.

I will verbalize this:

I need new carpet.

I think I should get wall to wall again.

I don't know - I like the whole wood floor/area rug vibe.

Maybe I'll rip it out tomorrow.

I could paint the floor.

I could refinish the floor.

We could install the wall  to wall ourselves I bet.

I think I'm going with the area rug.

Hmm..new carpet will make the couch look really worn.

I could recover the couch.

See what I mean?

I could just keep my flappy yap shut and come to a decision and just do it.

Is that how normal people do it?

If I quit verbalizing my thought process on every.little.thing - there would be no blog.

That makes me laugh.

Like I could really keep my yap flap closed.

Truly I do sit here and write at times, just so I know what I think about something.

Maybe other people do the same - but maybe most of them just don't click that orange 'Publish' button in the upper right hand corner.

Ten for Tuesday - Happiness in the Little Things

You know those days you have where you are just happy for no specific reason?

Yep.

It's one of those.

Seems like everywhere I look - there's something to smile at.

I snapped a few photos this morning of things that made me happy as my day unfolded:

My tea station.  This delights me.  I have no idea why - I just got the little pottery piece for .75 at Goodwill.  Perhaps that's why.  Or maybe it's the neat new succulent in the back.  Or possibly it's the vintage spoons.

Or maybe, I just love tea.

When I sat on the porch to have my tea, I saw this.

Again - happiness in a jar.

I'm awfully easy to please aren't I?

Autumn deliciousness right there - $5 - Target.

Something else on the porch that made me happy.  The beginnings of my succulent garden.  There's a great little garden center in Beecher, IL that has been selling succulents for $2 each.  

Remember - "I'm cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs!"?

We'll, I'm a sucker for succulents!

A great surprise in the chicken coop today.

The young ladies have begun to lay.

I should hear a rooster crowing soon.

The beautiful birds I got from McMurray Hatchery are doing fabulous!

I ran to town this morning, well, actually, I drove - and this sight met me when I came home.

There are no words to describe how I love being home.

Verily ye shall pry my dead cold hands away from this place.

Morbid?

Happy.

I took a good hard look at this basket on the gate, and it made me happy too.

I'm thrilled that the stuff actually grew in it.  It required diligent watering.

I need to spray paint the basket, yes?

This made me a bit sad, but more happy.

The end of the garden.

Sad - because time is marching on - happy - because my bones are weary of the work right now, and looking forward to the restorative rest of winter.

This absolutely thrills me.

The anticipation and hope of gobs of sunflowers next year.

A million isn't enough!

Getting dressed today, I noticed this on my dresser.  A sweet little gift from my friend Tracy in Oregon - whom I met via this very blog.

I'm so blessed!

And last, but not least - it's Tuesday - and that means Sons of Anarchy.

One of my guilty pleasures.

I shan't get to see it until tomorrow, since I watch it online for free - but still...Jax?

Oh my.

I even named my kitty after him...

Jax - Sons of Anarkitty.

Go forth my friends! 

I challenge you to find ten happy things today!

The Lights Are On...

Old abandoned homes remain one of my favorite things.

The lights are on - but ain't nobody home.

I bet that's what y'all have been thinkin' up around here.

I'm home.

Sort of.

I have the shingles.  True story.  Found out Wednesday - caught them SUPER early, so I think I may live.  

: -)

Last night a big hunk of an upper molar fell off.

I'm starting to wonder if I should just put myself into a medically induced coma until next year to avoid anymore ailments.

I know in my knower that there is a lesson to be learned in all of this. 

 What it is - well, I think it's just coming to light.

You know - I've just been restless since Aaron left a year ago.  I find my days lacking purpose at times, and I'm just not ok with that.  I'm not ok with spending myself on myself.

I've become a whiney blogger, and that's not ok either, so I refrain from blogging.

SO many people are going through much rougher stuff than my little summer of discomfort.

And therein I believe lies most of my problem.  I can't seem to stand discomfort.  I eat over it, I shop over it, I 'get busy' over it. I look for a job to quiet it.  I don't sit with it and let it teach me it's lesson.

And therefore, I never learn the lesson, or hear it's voice of wisdom.

Rinse and repeat sisters.

I know that I still compare myself to other people too much and all the wonderful things that they are doing and making and achieving, and I'm all like 'should I throw out this old blue paint?' as I work on decluttering this old place, or wonder if I should make the Chicken Tikka Masala or the Pakistani Kima for dinner.

I feel half hearted about everything.

I think I'm just tired, and that's ok.  It's ok to let life pass on sometimes while you just watch.  It's ok to watch all of your friends doing things that you've always wanted to do - going fabulous places while you sit - laughing, when you feel like smirking. 

It's ok.

Life ain't no race, and if it is - I never got a bib number.

:-)

So for now, I'm going to sit with that discomfort, and hear what it has to say.

I so hope it tells me to have some cheesecake.

Or bacon.

Amen.

The Walls Talked

Sometimes things happen in my life that are almost too good to be true.

Bacon is one - 

Clarence "Buddy" and Marilyn are another.

A while ago, more than a month - we noticed a pick up truck driving slowly back and forth in front of our house.  This isn't much of an odd occurrence, it happens often, and makes me think that I need to stop dashing around the house nude with all of these windows.

The pick up truck finally pulled in the driveway, and I just assumed that they were honey customers.

It was then that this man told me "My grandfather built this house."

When he found out how nice I was : -) and excited to meet him, he called his wife Marilyn out of the truck.

I cannot begin to tell you how I love these two.  They stayed a good hour, telling us all about the house, how he was born here, upstairs in 1927.  They also told us all about how they met, and so much about their lives.  They felt like family by the time they left.  I may or may not have traumatized them a little, as you know how exuberant I can get at times.  I think at one point I asked them if they would adopt me.

They only have one daughter, and I think that they need at least one more.

Buddy and Marilyn are in their 80's.

They are so spry, full of life and seem totally smitten with each other.  You should have seen the way she looked at him as he told his stories.  It was like the first time she'd ever heard them.

We hugged, I gave them my phone number - told them to please come back for supper so that I could hear more of their stories.

You just never know - I didn't know if they'd ever come back.

But they did.  They phoned the other day and came out.

This time they stayed three hours.

I'm officially in love with them.

They brought photos and stories.

It was all a bit overwhelming for me, and you know how I've been lately - so of course there were tears.

Buddy cried a little too.  He said how nice it was to see someone in the house taking care of it, and that loved it so.

I was getting so confused about who was who, and trying to piece the puzzle together.

I finally got it straight.

I won't bore you with all of those details, but here are the photos, and I'll share my thoughts at the end.

Mathias Weis - built this house in 1869 when he was 21 years old.

He married Elizabeth Pinter, from Germany in 1880.  They told me she was a really crabby woman, but after I read their family history - she has every right to be - this is her son Matthew.

This photo totally haunts me.  It's so crazy to see the house like this, original brick.  To think those are the very windows I look out everyday.  Now, when I look out the window, I think of this photo.  The woman bent over is Mathias and Elizabeth's daughter Anna.  I've thought of her so much since seeing these photos.

Anna and her father Mathias (man that built the house)

Is it me, or does this dog seem like a handful?
  Every photo that it's in, the people seem to be trying to hold on to it!

Mathias and his daughter Anna (Clarence's mother).  Notice the awesome log structure attached to the barn - how I wish it were all still here.

I have to be honest and say that seeing these photos and hearing the history have really affected me in a very unexpected way.  It seems important for some reason.  Perhaps if I myself hadn't been in such an emotionally fragile state for the last month, it wouldn't have been so.

I've always wondered about the people that lived here before, and had always assumed that people had surely been born and died here, but now I know.

Thinking and knowing are two different things.

Elizabeth Mathias gave birth to 8 children here.  

I can't even imagine two children in the house, let alone 8.  10 living in this little house?

Wow.

Her first born died at the age of 21.

She had a seven year old daughter die here in 1901.

In 1885, two of her children died within two days of each other - one at three years old, the other at one.

I'm assuming it was an influenza outbreak.

It's brought a sobering feeling to the house for me - this house that has always felt like nothing but happy.

I find myself now wondering what room it was that her babies were lying sick.

I find myself wondering how in the world someone could overcome the grief of losing half her children.

If you've read my blog for any length of time, you know that I love this house, and feel that it's almost an entity in and of itself.  I felt that I was born to live here, and I have no plan on leaving it - unless it's feet first.

Unless of course you ask me in May, and then I'm out condo shopping because the initial yard work is overwhelming.

: -)

If you want to see photos of the house when we got it, click on the link to the right under 'labels' and read 'This Old House'.

I'll end by saying this.

Y'all know I've had a really hard summer.

For my usually non eventful life - it was hard - compared to the things other people have gone through, and are going through - it's silliness.

I love my problems, I do.  I'll take mine back at the end of the day when I think of what other's are going through.

Meeting Clarence and Marilyn, and learning about the house and those that have lived and loved here before I found the old place - well, it's girded me with an incredibly feeling of strength and gratitude.

A home is built in 1869.

It's nearly falling down in 1988.

We came.

We saw.

We conquered.

We loved it back to life - and that love was with hammers, nails, paint, sweat, and at times blood.

And now it stands strong again, and beautiful.

To me - it's such a testimony of love - of hard work - of perseverance.

Nothing is a lost cause.

No one.

I believe that with enough hammering, love, sweat and perseverance anything that is broken can be restored.

I love my home, and those who live in it.

I hope you feel the same about yours.

Love is All Around

Thank you ever so much for your comments, emails and concern.

It has truly made the difference this week.

Why is it so easy to hide in the closet, hurting, alone - when it's SO nice to be loved and cared for?

I haven't figured that out.

Fear?

Perhaps.

I'm going back after I post this blog post, and I'm going to answer your comments, in the comments.

I'm starting to feel a bit better, and I'm most certain it's because I don't feel alone anymore,

 or I don't feel like I have to fake it until I make it.

There IS strength in weakness.

I'm not feeling terribly sad anymore, but still so emotionally raw.

I cry now because I'm grateful.

I cry because I think of Aaron, and I think he's the most beautiful, brave boy I know.

I cry because I know I'm loved.

I cry because I think my friends are beautiful people.

I cry because the fields are ablaze right now, and it's so beautiful to behold.

It's good core work, all of this crying.

Too bad I've been eating meals as if they were my last lately!

It hurts to make a fist.

I don't know how y'all eat processed food.

I'm feeling so bloated and inflammed.

There are such glimmers of hope - I see bits of the old Jayme coming back, but in a much more 'new and improved' way.  I seriously don't feel that I need to work myself to death anymore.  I'm really over that.  I'm over the fact that the house isn't perfect, and I don't care if anyone sees the cobwebs or dead ladybugs anymore.  I feel that I've come to know my limitations, and I'm starting to realize that it's much more fun to sit at Starbucks with tea and a book than it is to stress over the minutia of a life of perfectionism.  

I'm living gloriously in the moment, I'm being kind to me - and sisters, it's feeling pretty flipping good.

I am enough, I have enough and I do enough.

I started revamping the mailbox garden and it feels good.  

Want to cleanse your soul?  Get your hands dirty.

And best of all - Clarence and Marilyn stopped by yesterday for a three hour visit.  Clarence is the 86 year old grandson of the man, Mathias Weis, that built this house.

He gave me photos of his grandfather, and family - standing here in front of the house.  I can't wait to share them with you - and share the story of the house, what I know thus far.  I've always said 'if these walls could talk' - and by golly - they done did.

Thank you again - I find it funny how often I feel like George Bailey from "It's a Wonderful Life' - when he realizes how loved he is at the end, and what a beautiful life he does have.

I'm believing that it's the payoff of living life vulnerable and open.

Hurts like a mother sometimes, but in the end?

Worth it.

I'm going to make it after all.

Maybe I Needed to Be Broken

You guys have been so good to me.

I wanted to share what's been going on - since I've been so quiet.

First - do you realize Aaron is almost finished with school?
He'll be moving back in with me for a brief time until he decides where to plant himself for now.

Can you hear my heart singing from where you sit?

: -)

Over the weekend we butchered 24 meat birds.

That's a whole 'notha post.

Rest assured I'm not sharing photos.

It was a very humbling, traumatizing experience that has forever changed a part of me.

Baby, the turkey is dead.

Just up and died one day, I have no idea why - looked like he was sleeping.

Other than that - I've been canning, and trying to keep moisture on our desert like acres.

Now - this is the real deal - and as usual - I feel vulnerable putting this out on the Interweb, and yet it's my nature to share my life - which I still don't fully understand my desire to do so - other than perhaps helping others, and helping me figure out what in the Sam hill is going on in this mind of mine.

Today I swear I heard a still small voice in my head - which sounded a lot like Arnold Schwarzenegger saying - 'I must break you' - to which I had to giggle a little.

I thought about the flax that I used to work with years ago, when I volunteered time at a little cabin in the woods - teaching children what life was like in pioneer times.

The flax was hard reeds that needed to be soaked, threshed, broken, and run through a bed of sharp nails before it could be spun and woven into something useful and beautiful.

I've decided to believe that is what's happening to me.

I'm just cutting and pasting this post that I wrote on the Leanness Lifestyle forum.

I just wanted you all to know where I was right now.

This could be long - and boring - because I'm refusing to use humor at the moment. : -D No hiding this time. Here goes. 

Not too long ago I was blabbering all over the Brene Brown thread about being vulnerable, and I'm enough. 

It's been a summer of cock suckery. Pardon my language. 

A quick synopsis, and I'm sure I'll even forget half of it - but here goes. The summer started out with a bad case of poison ivy - which lead to steroids, which led to me not sleeping for a few nights, and then I got a urinary tract infection which led to a really bad reaction to the antibiotics - which had me off for a good week. And from there - it becomes a blur. I worked myself half to death in the garden in May - or so it seemed. Sometime in June I think it was, I stepped on a rusty screw and ended up at the Dr. for a tetanus shot, which led to the discovery of extremely high blood pressure, which explained the headaches I was having. The high BP was a side effect that I was unknowingly having from taking Effexor (something the Dr. put me on for perimenopausal anxiety). I had to get off of the drug ASAP, and I was rather glad to anyhow -I felt that I was a bit emotionally numb, and the sexual side effects were disturbing for someone like myself, with the sex drive of a 17 year old boy. What I didn't know was that getting off of Effexor after taking it for a year was almost impossible. I tried three times, and couldn't bear the withdrawal effects. 

Eye break. 

I finally managed to get completely off of it about a month ago. I also had a abnormal pap result during that time which was a bit stressful until resolved. I have never experienced the likes of anything like trying to get off the anti-depressant Effexor. If you don't believe me, Google that shit. One man said it was easier getting off of heroin. I was sick for weeks. I had days where I had to sit perfectly still or I was sure my brain would fall out, and all I would do was cry. Horrific. 

Finally, I felt better, right about the time that LS218 was starting. 

I was feeling really good as a matter of a fact. Now? Um. Not good. I'm experiencing what the Dr. warned I could have - rebound depression. Now - I wasn't even being treated for depression with this drug, and I've never been depressed, but I am now. It's awful. I have so much compassion now for people that are prone to it. how long it will last? I'm not sure. 

Last week I had to have my gums lasered - the day before that I jacked my knee up doing squats. I'm still limping. Today I twisted my ankle in the garden and went down, re-tweaking the knee, and now it crunches when I move it. And I'm depressed. 

Lovely picture isn't it? 

OK, all of that to say this. I don't like feeling weak. I don't like feeling like other people view me as weak. I'm used to being one of the top students here, and now I'm the bottom. I'm used to being the life of that party, and now if you are around me long enough I will make you cry. Oh yes, I will. 

I'm working on acting my way out of this - I do get up and stay busy all day - I look for others that need help and help them. I try to spread kindness even though I don't feel like it. I ain't no wallower. I do my crying while I do my chores. 

I've tried kicking my own ass several times. I put my accountability up to a level four to have my ass kicked. Nothing is working. I absolutely feel like I have no fight left in me, no drive, nothing. I open my assignment page and I cry. I feel so battle weary. 

I want to do yoga and meditate and cry and take long walks alone, and then complain that I'm lonely. I want to stop thinking about goals and I swear if I read ONE more motivational or inspirational quote on Facebook, I'm going to lose it. 

I've felt angry a lot lately. 

So there you have it. Jayme is a hot mess. I still deep inside love me and think I'm enough. I still plan on being here, cause I can't think of a better place to be when I'm in a state such as this. 

I am open, I am vulnerable - and it's OK. Somehow, I've felt girded inside just typing all of this here. It's so easy to hide, isnt it? Perhaps in weakness exposed, there is strength. 

I'm trying to treat myself as I would my best friend if she were going through this. Kindness to myself. So easy to say, often so hard to do.