That's What the Grace is For

In our house we use this phrase, more and more all the time:  "That's what the grace is for."

Right now, Whimsy is eating frosted shredded wheat out of the bag, sitting on the end of my treadmill.  I was supposed to run or walk or something this morning because it's a Wednesday and I try to be on that thing three mornings a week.  Lately, I can't seem to make myself even care.  It's March now and we are well into Lent, and spring is trying to show up here in Arkansas like a pre-term baby.  Much as you long for spring, it's not good when it comes too soon.  It's too dry and too many things are trying to bloom when they could still so easily be frozen and lost.

What feels like a hundred things need my attention today.  The dishwasher is broken again.  I've lost count of how many dishwashers we have broken and repaired in this house over the last 6 years.  It is starting to smell rotten and sweaty and the sinks are full of dirty dishes and leftover coffee poured over them when Calvin made this morning's fresh batch.  

This is the season when I need to start planting all the little seeds to make my work grow over the next few months. I feel the urgency but not the motivation.

The truth is, I am weary.  Too weary.  I noticed a few weeks ago that I wasn't feeling things like I normally do.  Like the onset of cold that keeps you from smelling, depression has a way of sneaking up on me and blocking up my senses.  I should get on that treadmill. I should not eat a cookie for breakfast. I should take a vitamin. I should, should, should....

A few weeks ago, I preached a sermon from John about how our lives are gifts.  That each day has the ability to exist with eternal dimension and density.  I learned so much from that sermon.  But there is a flip side to all this awareness:  maybe it's just me, but sometimes, I need to take the day for granted.

We get so many messages about "our wild and precious life."  How we have to make everything count. How we gotta make hay while the sun shines.  How we need to enjoy every second with our toddlers because they grow up fast.  There is an urgency to these messages that is all find and good, but sometimes it's too much.  Especially when your brain chemicals are not playing nice and frankly, you just need a vacation.

This is what the grace is for.

The grace is for when you can't pull it together. When you have already screwed it up.  When you are scared to even try.  When you should feel a certain way and you don't.  The grace is for days that you put on workout clothes and never make it to the treadmill.  The grace is for when you really really want to, but you just don't give a damn.  The grace is for when you are grieving something so sad that you can't really function.  The grace is for when you just want to go to bed at 10 in the morning.

I grew up in an environment that inadvertently sent the message that "God's grace is a really good thing, but try not to need it."

As I parent and care for other people around me, I am trying to say this:

God's grace is inexhaustible,
you can have as much as you need
whenever you need it.
Come as often as you want.
It will never dry up or expire.
You can't be overdrawn.

It's easy for me to tell other people that.  It's harder to accept for myself.

I'm reading Elizabeth Gilbert's lovely book about creativity, Big Magic.  She says that using our creativity "to help people"  makes for a lousy motivation and frankly ends up with some pretty lousy art.  (I'm looking at you Christian movies).  Create to help yourself and thereby, maybe you can help someone else along the way.

So I am here. Writing it out.  Thinking about how I can just let the sun rise and set and just be.  I'm thinking about how I can help myself.  Anne Lamott calls it "radical self care."  She says we need to think of ourselves as the patient.  How would I care for someone who feels the way I do?

Well, I guess I would let them know that I don't have an expectations. Because when you are depressed, other people's expectations weigh a ton....they are really unbearable.

I would suggest that they get as much rest as possible, and try to do something different than they normally do because routines can be as exhausting as they are comforting.

I would validate their feelings as much as possible while reminding them that feelings are not permanent.  Things can change.

I would tell them not to make any major life changes based on their feelings...you know like quitting their job because it feels like they suck at it.

I would ask them to be kind to themselves.  Not in the "treat yo-self" indulgent way that often just leads to feeling worse because you ate too much, spent too much or drank too much.  But in the, "believe that you are really loved and valuable and act accordingly" kind of way.  Put on some lipstick.  Take a shower. Paint your nails. "Take the time to be ok"  as the Robbie Seay Band put it.

 

You Again?

You may have concluded from the scarcity of my online presence that I was swallowed up in a lake effect blizzard and permanently lost.  Close.  I got home from vacation at my parents house and fell into a depression.

How do I know it's depression? Because my single biggest goal in the morning is getting back in bed.  I long to become invisible.  I am genuinely annoyed at all the needy, whining entities that want my attention and won't leave me alone...you know who I mean, right?  Like those loud requests from AT&T and Dish Network that come in the mail?  The beeping on the microwave that tells me my coffee has been reheated.  "Shut up and stop yelling at me, Beep.  I'll get there when I can drag myself away from the space heater under my worktable where I am sitting here refreshing meaningless webpages that I don't care one tiny bit about." Exhausting, I tell you. 

Well, I'm not in my 20's anymore.  I know what it will take to get beyond this.  I have tried the drugs. They do work but they have side effects I don't love. And you have to mess with a doctor which takes time and money. 

It helps to talk a bit. I know I'm pretty tired and have absorbed a lot of changes in a short time and have some things that I'm angry and sad about.  (But I feel badly bugging my friends.)

It helps to write, so I'm writing. (It's uninspiring garbage, but honest anyway.) 

I will need to exercise. (Which is going to be tough considering putting in my contacts takes about all the energy I have.)

Lay off the wine (which is so very helpful for relaxing when you are really doing something, but not so good when you are already nearly catatonic.) 

Spend time alone with God being honest about my emotions. (Ugh, that's not gonna be pretty.) 

And I have to give myself some space and time. Which means I might say no to something you ask me for. Something you have every right to ask for.  I just might not be able to deliver right now. It will nearly kill me to say no to you.  I'd much rather say no to myself, drag myself forward and try to please you. 

Ok, Depression.  It's you again. You are real and ignoring you doesn't make things better.  But you aren't the boss of me. You don't have to stick around and make me and my family miserable forever. I don't have much will to fight you, but if you wanna go, let's do this thing.

What She Said

My Old Nemesis

nemesis.

Just checking to see if I spelled it right. There's no spell check in the title bar.

So my old nemesis raised it's ugly head this week. Maybe it was the 57 consecutive days of gray and rain. Maybe it was still grieving the loss of my niece. Maybe it was Robb being away. Maybe it was a big mess on one my etsy orders that had me minus two of my best mosaics and no money. Maybe it's my current trend for insomnia. Maybe it's wanting a house of my own so much I can taste the paint chips but then getting bills in the mail and knowing we're still months away. Maybe I'm worried about some of my friends who are in a bad spot. Maybe it was a host of other things that have been simmering below the surface for months. Maybe it's bio engineered food and global warming and the economy and swine flu and the just general screwed-up-ness of this world.

Whatever the combination, it had me curled up in a ball behind the piano, with nothing left. Yeah, so apparently depression is back. So if I have bonked on getting back to your phone-call or answering an email, please don't take it personally. I'm just in a death-match with my seratonin and I'm a little busy right now trying to drag the dead weight of my emotions around.

Yesterday was better. Robb stayed home for the morning and we took a walk and talked about some of the static crazy that had built up. I finished some mosaics, took pictures for my etsy store, did a little gardening, and we made burgers on the grill.

This morning, after a muggy night, I went out and cut the first roses of the year. They are deep red, cluster roses and they smell wonderful. But the sky is growing blacker every minute and we are scheduled for days and days and days of rain, thunderstorms and cloudy weather. So I'm sitting with the lightbox on. And I'm blogging. Two points to me.

I'm scared. Looked at my bank account this morning and stifled a wave of terror. You think I'm being dramatic, and I know I am. Because the way these chemicals work, I can't tell the big stuff from the small stuff. And that's a scary thing...running from oversize shadows that turn out to be your own. One of the best things about sitting in a ball completely strung out on your own fear is waking up the next day and finding out that even though you fell apart, God didn't stop holding the world together. That even though my reality is telling me all the time that it's hopeless, God's reality is much different.

I listen to the Daily Audio Bible via iTunes. I try to listen every day. Sometimes I fall behind, but it is easy to catch up. Yesterday, I listened to Hannah's song. It was meaningful to me. There is something to be learned from the way she prayed. There is something to be learned from her hope being fully in God. She was tormented unjustly. Her husband didn't quite understand her. Her priest judged her unfairly. But God was listening. And he gave her what she asked for. And this is what she said (with my asides in italics):

1 Hannah prayed: I'm bursting with God-news! I'm walking on air.
I'm laughing at my rivals. I'm dancing my salvation.
2-5 Nothing and no one is holy like God,
no rock mountain like our God.
Don't dare talk pretentiously—
not a word of boasting, ever!
(I HATE pretentiousness too Hannah!)

For God knows what's going on.
He takes the measure of everything that happens.
The weapons of the strong are smashed to pieces,
while the weak are infused with fresh strength.
The well-fed are out begging in the streets for crusts,
while the hungry are getting second helpings.
(I don't really want any one to go hungry, but I'm anxious about grocery money)

The barren woman has a houseful of children,
while the mother of many is bereft.
6-10 God brings death and God brings life,
brings down to the grave and raises up.
God brings poverty and God brings wealth;
he lowers, he also lifts up.
(Sometimes I feel really low when I buy everything second-hand)

He puts poor people on their feet again;
he rekindles burned-out lives with fresh hope,
Restoring dignity and respect to their lives—
a place in the sun!
(This is all I want for the people of Vintage Fellowship...sometimes it seems like I'm asking for too much from God. But this says that that is what God does. I'm glad to hear that God and I are on the same page about this.)

For the very structures of earth are God's;
he has laid out his operations on a firm foundation.
He protectively cares for his faithful friends, step by step,
but leaves the wicked to stumble in the dark.
(protectivly cares for us....sigh of relief)
No one makes it in this life by sheer muscle!
(my mantra is "I'll make it work." I guess I need a new mantra)

God's enemies will be blasted out of the sky,
crashed in a heap and burned.
God will set things right all over the earth,
(seriously? That's what I long for in the night when I stare at the ceiling.)
he'll give strength to his king,
he'll set his anointed on top of the world!


Depression comes to me for many reasons. Some are chemical, some are spiritual. I don't believe for a second that if I just read my Bible and pray more, my depression will go away. That's a sick lie. But if I read my Bible and pray more, it helps. Two points to me. And all the points to God.

Meet the Lightbox

I am, as they say in Arkansas, fixin' to make Robb's Tristmas Tookies but before I do, I am doing my session with the lightbox. Which basically consists of me, doing my usual computer time, with this big lamp over me.

This is my second day with the lamp, and so far, I can say that it easy to use and not too weird to add to my day. It isn't warm like basking in the sun, but it's not unpleasant. It was kind of annoying to set up initially because one of the bulbs was loose and I had to take out 9 screws, tighten it, and then take it apart again because I accidentally left one of the screws inside. It features 3 32 watt compact florescent light bulbs. It puts out some insane about of light like, 40,000 k's or something. Basically, it looks like a sunny morning.

Like I said, it's only day two, but I can say that by 10 a.m. yesterday, I had made breakfast for the kids, packed part of their lunches, was dressed, and finished some of my creative projects. I then organized my shopping list for making cookies and went out the store. When I got home, I cleaned the house and made a nice dinner, and hung out with the kids. I got my studio picked up a little bit, listed some stuff on etsy, took some photos and then chilled out with some tv. I confess I ate quite a few olives at that point. It was a good day, quite frankly. Mattie noticed that when they came home, I was outside raking up the leaves that always blow into our front door. She thought that was kind of interesting...she asked if the lamp made me feel active.

Of course, it might be the placebo effect. I am pretty motivated for this to work. So maybe it's all in my head. We'll see.

But so far, even though the lamp was pretty expensive, it is kind of handy. Because it has a diffusing cover, I can easily use it to augment my product photos. This is always a problem in this house, since like many southern homes, it is purposely made to block out a lot of bright sunlight.

I'll be curious to see how it works as the gray days roll in next week.

And now....I'm going to make forty kinds of cookies! See ya later!

Thanks everybody...

for your encouraging words yesterday. I am headed out today to see what I can find by way of light bulbs. After talking it over with my super-supportive husband, we're going to seriously consider the "over the counter" version available at Walgreens. Seriously...Walgreens. I read their online reviews, and they were really positive. The lamp costs almost 200 hundred dollars, which I think is crazy, but the price tag is about the only thing that is keeping me from trying it.

I very much like the idea of keeping treatment as natural as possible, so I walked the kids to school again this morning and I'm trying to reach for better food options. And while my cravings haven't been too trustworthy lately, I think my recent love affair with cranberry/orange relish has been a good thing. I've been eating it by the spoonful and I bought more oranges on Monday so I can make some more. Here's the recipe:

Put 1 package cranberries (4 cups) through a food chopper and 2 oranges. Add 2 cups sugar. Mix well. Chill in refrigerator several hours before serving. Makes 1 quart relish.

I made it with 1 cup of cranberries and one whole orange (that's peel and all...it tastes amazing) and only as much sugar as I needed to be able to eat it without puckering. It's good on toast, in hot cereal, or just by the spoonful.

Let's Talk About Seasonal Affective Disorder!

If you've ever read the description of Seasonal Affective Disorder, I have come to realize that my picture should be there next to the description.

Fall and winter SAD (winter depression)
Symptoms of winter-onset seasonal affective disorder include:

* Depression
* Hopelessness
* Anxiety
* Loss of energy
* Social withdrawal
* Oversleeping
* Loss of interest in activities you once enjoyed
* Appetite changes, especially a craving for foods high in carbohydrates
* Weight gain
* Difficulty concentrating and processing information

Originally from "up north," female, over 20, I have experienced at least three major periods of depression in my life, and all three of them came on in November and magically went away in March or April. Last year, it finally dawned on us (no pun intended) that maybe it had less to do with the holidays and more to do with the freakin' weather. For the last couple of days, I have been feeling it come on....like a heavy lead running through my veins, all I want to do in the world is drink wine and sleep. During my normal circuit to thrift stores yesterday, I didn't want to be greeted by my friendly shop keepers, and I knew I should be excited about the huge box of chip-chop dishes they handed me for free, but I couldn't seem to muster it. Everything at home is going really well, and all my Christmas shopping is mostly done. I should be happy happy happy...but I would like to just be left the stink alone to sit around in my fat girl pants and eat M&Ms.

I spend a day or two dreading it. Grumping that I have to be such a chemical screw-up. That maybe I'm just making it up. That I can outsmart it this year. That if I pray more or become a vegetarian or just "be tough" I can make it go away.

This morning, I had my first tiff with Robb about it because I get really, really cranky....not just morning cranky. And not even like PMS cranky. More like a hybrid of 10th month of pregnancy and really long-car-ride-with-screaming-baby-cranky. And I thought to myself, "Shoot. I love this guy. I don't want to fight with him."

So treatments: last year I tried the drugs. They were ok, but they left me *ahem* unsatisfied if you know what I mean *wink wink* and my insurance wouldn't cover the brand that says it won't do that to you. I could try to keep walking the kids to school every day, but I feel a little guilty making them walk in the cold when I'm the one that needs the therapy. And honestly, the nice days do get few and far between in the next couple of months. I heard that tanning is a good way to go...but I'm very VERY unlikely to go someplace and do this. I'm just not that girl.

So here's what I'm thinking. I'm going to try making the light therapy box. I read that one patient who utilized this method went from suicidal to perky in just three days. Now those are some results! I'll let you know how it goes.

Whole Pill Days

I was feeling so good for a while there, that I actually cut back on my anti-anxiety medication to a half a pill....that's right...they don't make a dose any smaller than the whole pill I was taking, so I cut it in half. This seemed to be working pretty well until the whole strep throat epidemic hit last week, and suddenly, I was back to taking a whole pill....mostly because I was too dang tired to stand there and cut the pill in half. And right up until yesterday morning, when a cockroach crawled on my hand while I was pouring my coffee...oh yeah, you read that right...I was taking a whole pill. (And no...my kitchen isn't that dirty...I had just disinfected everything we owned on Saturday...and yes, A you were right...there are more of them than I thought...Raid has been purchased....)

So anyway...forgive me...I'm still pre-coffee today...I shall heretofore categorize my days as half pill days or whole pill days. This, I sincerely hope, is a half pill. Yesterday I spent the day organizing my desk and craft closet after I made two dog beds for Sid and a poodle skirt for Mattie's 50's theme school program tonight. My darling husband let me sleep in and took care of getting the kids off to school and setting Charleigh up with Sesame Street until I could face the world. That was so restorative after days and days and days of the thought "You gotta do it all today" catapulting me out of bed.

I really didn't mind taking care of hubby last week because he was actually sick. It's only annoying to take care of a sick hubby who is not sick enough to merit complaining. He was so sick, he couldn't complain. Apparently, there is some invisible threshold in my mind of when somebody merits coddling.

Vin complained of not feeling well last night, but I am proud to say that I was right...it was not the dreaded Strep that had him bellyaching, but rather an aversion to salad for dinner. He woke up perky as always.

So there's a little update. I'm still a little too foggy to think of anything interesting to say. I've been reading all your blogs, though and hoping you are doing well this bright, sunny morning.