Choo Choo was definitely telling me something. To save myself a lawsuit I deleted all the burnt retina squinty ones.
*Manfred Mann's Earth Band
Sunday, December 23, 2007
"She Was Blinded By The Light" *
Choo Choo was definitely telling me something. To save myself a lawsuit I deleted all the burnt retina squinty ones.
*Manfred Mann's Earth Band
Mariah's Merry Christmas
I know concerning the blog postings I've been a little heavy on the videos but I wanted to share with you, in case you haven't come across them, some of the informative or fun stuff that I'm finding, that I agree with and like.
If you happen to read a post in my blog and agree or disagree or just want to leave a note please use the comments icon underneath the post.
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it's queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Please read John Lundberg's essay on Christmas and Robert Frost's poems @ Huffington Post
2000 - 2007 Wrap Up: Good Bye To The Last Seven Years.
Angora mother goat and her kid.
Back in 2000 when we owned our farmhouse with goats, cats, dogs and a lot of emotional turmoil, I sat down with a friend who was also the youth pastor at my church. In one part of the conversation he said to me, "Kathy, sometimes when we have a lot of other obligations in our life like our animals, our job or even our church we begin to use them to replace something that we feel we're not receiving anywhere else and they begin to fill up our lives and they sometimes take over." I realized then that all that time I was doing what made me feel good I was just wandering alone in the dark. I lost the balance. I just didn't get it right. So I lost my home and I lost my dream.
My family knows I developed an anxiety disorder in my early twenties. The combination of anxiety and what I wanted for my home not falling into place led to my depression. After we sold the house I think I buried it for awhile. But it was still there like a dark cloud and it continued to come back off and on over the next seven years and reached a point so bad last year that I wasn't even leaving my apartment except to see my doctor. For seven years of my life. Seven years since we sold the house, seven birthdays, seven anniversaries, seven Mother's Days, seven Christmases, seven years of no close friends, seven years all by myself except for doctors, therapists, Bruce and Choo Choo. My precious little companion.
Emotions at their worst.
This year there are Christmas lights and decorations on the mantle and our little fiber optic tree is on the hearth. Still it bothers me that Christmas cards didn't go out again this year or the house doesn't look that pretty yet from the street. Being a homeowner in the first year we're financially strained and I can't find the motivation to go out to pick up a few things from the store, even with debit and gift cards in hand. That would shock my Gram, I was such a shopaholic. My family is in New York, the boys will have Christmas in Lynchburg and we'll be here in Richmond.
Please don't take this as a pity party. I know how awful others can have it at this time of year. But sometimes I get stuck in a sadness I can't shake. People have to realize it becomes a part of who you are, your psyche, all the way down to your bones. "Snap out of it" or "pull yourself up by your bootstraps" are old sayings that don't work. Accomplishments make some things better but there's no going back to the way things were. Like in the melancholy Streisand-Redford movie that's what I need to come to grips with.
This particular writing is my Christmas present and New Year's wish to myself. Even if only one person reads my blog it has been really cathartic for me. It lets me verbalize and show in pictures and videos what makes up my DNA and who I am. I think when I started this blog I said it would be short and I hoped interesting but I needed to get some "heavier things" out of the way.
Now that the Christmas Holyday is so near, I will be getting back to that intention. I am wishing for a 2008 that shows me where I'm going and not writing about where I've been.
Back in 2000 when we owned our farmhouse with goats, cats, dogs and a lot of emotional turmoil, I sat down with a friend who was also the youth pastor at my church. In one part of the conversation he said to me, "Kathy, sometimes when we have a lot of other obligations in our life like our animals, our job or even our church we begin to use them to replace something that we feel we're not receiving anywhere else and they begin to fill up our lives and they sometimes take over." I realized then that all that time I was doing what made me feel good I was just wandering alone in the dark. I lost the balance. I just didn't get it right. So I lost my home and I lost my dream.
My family knows I developed an anxiety disorder in my early twenties. The combination of anxiety and what I wanted for my home not falling into place led to my depression. After we sold the house I think I buried it for awhile. But it was still there like a dark cloud and it continued to come back off and on over the next seven years and reached a point so bad last year that I wasn't even leaving my apartment except to see my doctor. For seven years of my life. Seven years since we sold the house, seven birthdays, seven anniversaries, seven Mother's Days, seven Christmases, seven years of no close friends, seven years all by myself except for doctors, therapists, Bruce and Choo Choo. My precious little companion.
Emotions at their worst.
This year there are Christmas lights and decorations on the mantle and our little fiber optic tree is on the hearth. Still it bothers me that Christmas cards didn't go out again this year or the house doesn't look that pretty yet from the street. Being a homeowner in the first year we're financially strained and I can't find the motivation to go out to pick up a few things from the store, even with debit and gift cards in hand. That would shock my Gram, I was such a shopaholic. My family is in New York, the boys will have Christmas in Lynchburg and we'll be here in Richmond. Please don't take this as a pity party. I know how awful others can have it at this time of year. But sometimes I get stuck in a sadness I can't shake. People have to realize it becomes a part of who you are, your psyche, all the way down to your bones. "Snap out of it" or "pull yourself up by your bootstraps" are old sayings that don't work. Accomplishments make some things better but there's no going back to the way things were. Like in the melancholy Streisand-Redford movie that's what I need to come to grips with.
This particular writing is my Christmas present and New Year's wish to myself. Even if only one person reads my blog it has been really cathartic for me. It lets me verbalize and show in pictures and videos what makes up my DNA and who I am. I think when I started this blog I said it would be short and I hoped interesting but I needed to get some "heavier things" out of the way.
Now that the Christmas Holyday is so near, I will be getting back to that intention. I am wishing for a 2008 that shows me where I'm going and not writing about where I've been.
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