this is me too

Wednesday, August 13, 2014


tropical paradise pattern assignment 1 - Make it in Design Summer Camp School ;-) Susan Black 

hand collaged bits with drawing, found paper all close cropped and then assembled in Photoshop & ps this joyful, happy, bold & brightly coloured pattern was created by someone who struggles almost daily with depression - this is me too ! I want to shout. This is me most !! I honestly believe - bright, colourful, engaged, creative, full of life, joyful ... this is me too !

 My friend MLou sent me this post from Buck 65's Facebook page this morning - I've pulled out a portion I find particularly poignant, particularly bang on.

When I heard the news about Robin Williams yesterday, my first thought was ‘I can’t believe it.’ But a moment later, I realized that I can believe it. Not because I knew Robin Williams, but because I can’t be surprised given what I know about depression. 

It’s easy to think Mr. Williams had every reason to be happy. And the reaction on Twitter yesterday showed that he had a lot of friends who cared about him very much. So we think, ‘if anyone could have gotten help, surely it was Robin Williams!’

The thing is, no amount of money or success or friends can rescue someone from depression. And it’s great that strides have been made in the field of mental health but a depressed person has to want that help and it usually doesn’t work that way.

My guess is that Mr. Williams was depressed for a long time. Maybe his whole life. I bet there was a link between his comedy and his depression. The comedy was probably a mask he could wear. He probably only ever took it off when he was alone. Yesterday there were so many stories from people who knew him well or who met him once expressing that he was a very sweet, loving and generous man. Did any of them see this coming?

I sense that Robin Williams was a very sensitive and empathetic person. He probably knew deep down that he could have reached out to practically anyone for help. But he was also probably acutely aware of the everyday pains, problems and struggles of the people around him - even those of strangers in airports. The last thing he wanted was to add to anyone else’s burdens. Life is hard. That’s probably why he chose instead to devote himself to bringing happiness to the lives of people - to try to lighten their load. They say he never refused a request for an autograph. 

A thing we often forget when something terrible like this happens is that when a person wants something badly, they run toward it, not away from it. That applies to bad things as much as it does good things. When someone wants to smell a flower, they smell the flower. They don’t stop themselves and say, “maybe I shouldn’t do this. I wonder if there’s a support hotline I can call so I can get over this urge to smell flowers…” 

We take comfort in things. We have a tendency toward addiction. Sometimes those addictions are small, sometimes they’re big. Some addictions are healthy, some are negative. Someone who runs everyday isn’t addicted to exercise. They’re addicted to the good feeling exercise gives them. They find a certain comfort in it. Just try tearing a lifelong runner away from their daily or weekly routine. In the same way, people can become addicted to their own bad feelings. Indulging in those feelings gives them a certain comfort. Sometimes that results in art, sometimes that results in drug abuse, sometimes it results in something much worse - like what happened yesterday with Robin Williams. He wanted badly to go where he went. Based on interviews I listened to yesterday (I’m thinking of his 2010 interview with Marc Maron on the WTF podcast, in particular), I think it’s a place he thought about going to for a long time. Yesterday, he lost himself in the comforts of his darkness. It swallowed him up forever. That’s where he wanted to go. Not to the hospital. Not to a friend’s house. He satisfied the darkness’s hunger so that it wouldn’t swallow anyone else - especially not someone he loved.

Yesterday, the call went out loudly that if you’re depressed, you can get help. That’s a beautiful notion. But I think it shows a lack of understanding of what some depressed people wrestle with (I can only guess). Maybe hotlines lit up yesterday. Maybe the wakeup call worked for some people. I hope it did. But I’m guessing it also made other people want to hide more carefully. 

It’s up to us, not them. We have to do a better job of looking out for one another. 

Quick aside: I recently saw a tweet that said something like, “what kind of asshole says anything other than ‘fine’ when you ask them how they’re doing?” 

That sentiment (and it’s a common one) is a big part of the problem. We don’t make it easy for someone to say they’re having a hard time. We don’t have the patience for it. Everyone says “fine, thanks” when asked how they’re doing and everyone is lying. We’re all wounded. We all have things that eat at us. We all have bad days and dark times. 

When we ask someone how they’re doing, we expect them to lie and not waste our time with their problems. So “fine, thanks” becomes the only acceptable answer. But sometimes, we’re not fine, thanks. 

We need to open things up. We need to be unafraid to get closer to the people we care about. It’s the only way to stop depression from being a fatal disease. Let’s not let the ones we love fight alone. 

I’m not suggesting that all a depressed person needs is to get things off their chest. Not at all. It’s as much a physiological disease as cancer (but harder to diagnose). All I’m saying is that I think depressed people often have the ability to hide their darkness very well. That’s why news like yesterday’s is often so shocking. But we can’t leave finding help, support or medicine up to those who need it. If they’ve been suffering long enough, they might not even know that the way they’re feeling isn’t normal. We need to talk. We need to ask the right questions. We need to listen very carefully. And when the mask comes off (and it will), we need to take the ones we care about by the hand and lead them to safety. 

It’s hard but we have to try.


* & another post today about a friend of his who's slipped into that abyss

robin williams

Tuesday, August 12, 2014
























All from this morning's walks, my first with Miss D (omg I love her so much and cherish each day I have with her 'cause I know our days together are winding down) / beautiful stripes of water in the sea / her sweet Wanda Cameron skinny shaggaliciuos legs with yellow wildflowers / sea grass / Winnie Dixon near the Dingy beach with salt boat / amazing & beautiful tiny wave / seaweed / from the boardwalk in Eaton Park / my best girl Dee / nature blows mw away / more from the crescent beach / I love living by the sea / crescent beach silhouette / our Eaton park harbour side boardwalk


There are so many things that I want so
badly to tell you but I just can't  Nina LaCour

How can this happen ? how can someone we perceive to be as so happy, so joyous & full of life just one day give up - they've tried, he's (obviously) tried all he can - I get it. I am so sad that such a bright sparkling person had to finally just give up. But I understand completely the desire to want to check out. I used to believe that depressed people were those grey, drab, can't get out of bed people - but now I know that you can be very depressed and not be grey or drab at all. You can see beauty & joy everywhere, every day and still it's not quite enough. You feel like to don't fit, can't fit and are so tired of trying to make yourself  fit - it's exhaustion that wins out - you just want to slip away, undetected, quietly. Bless you sweet Robin Williams - by this very tragic final act you have helped so many people, you have changed the face of depression & this will help lots of people. I know it's helped me already, it's helped me with acceptance

One of my favourite songs ever - and as much as I strain & push against the love & patience of my Prince, my Doug with my own struggles with depression I know he wants only to give me  - everything I've ever wanted - how can that not be enough?

I will give you everything
That you've ever wanted
With this promise
I will bring you home again



magic

Friday, August 8, 2014


how does this magic happen ? how does the simple layered paper collage become the finished luscious mixed media piece ?

trust, faith, courage & desire = magic
that's how it happens - more on the visual step-by-step process here

The moment you doubt whether you can fly, 
you cease for ever to be able to do it. 
J. M. Barrie/Peter Pan 

One of the things on my multi category to-do, want-to-do, must-do list for the remainder of this year is to teach another live collage/mixed media workshop or 2 in the fall - stay tuned if you live nearby + for those of you who don't I'm working on downloadable, work at your own pace, keep forever tutorial e-courses - a few of my favourite things. 1. a lil' collage owl tutorial ($10-15.) complete with patterns, techniques & materials lists 2. a typographic tutorial collage + hand-drawn/painted letters - perfect for posters, cards, scrapbooking/memory keeping or for adding into a mixed media piece - ($10-15) also complete with patterns, techniques & materials lists & 3. an in-depth mixed media art tutorial e-course along with tips, techniques, exercises & materials I'll also tackle the big question raised above the creative block dilemma ... how do you get from there to here, here being a place where you're satisfied with the outcome + lots of reasons that being happy with the outcome is not the only really the goal - uh huh - ($30-40) I can't wait to get these tutorials together, always something buzzing here at the TTD*

+ I believe this next statement with all my heart ...

Hope can be a powerful force. Maybe there's no actual magic in it, but when you know what you hope for most and hold it like a light within you, you can make things happen, almost like magic. Laini Taylor

*TTD teak topped desk - I like it when I make bold, e-course tutorial, semi-committments here on the blog 'cause maybe ...

tenderness

Thursday, August 7, 2014
















nasturtium + bee bum = LOVE / Winnie & Bleet in Nessie's new favourite lunching spot on the from porch / sigh - cosmos / Itty Bitty Betty loves to garden / wild tansy / more front garden black pine bark & lichen love / nasturtiums again in the elementary school kids garden planted by Jen / truth in advertising - messy, messy office with hard working, as always, Creative Director Oliver) / more wild tansy / spirea ? there are so many varieties - Dianne ? Rachel ?? John ? / nasturtiums / the black velvet chiclet NessieNess coming to meet Miss D and I / it's tansy day here at 29 black street / the view coming down Black Street toward the water with greeter IBB (Itsy Bitsy Betty) / gorgeousness

When we honestly ask ourselves which person(s) in our lives means the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving much advise, solutions or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a gentle hand and a tender heart. 
Henri Nouwen

I sure do get weary
'cause tenderness is always what I'm looking for.

& sadly I'll confess tenderness is always my expectation. I say sadly because everything I read suggests that by having expectations, especially expectations of tenderness I am setting myself up for continual disappointment & sadness. I'm having such a tough time letting go of the feelings to not have expectations I wrestle with this idea daily ... hourly sometimes. I wrestle with it intensely & seriously because I know in my far too very tender heart that this is the key to saving myself.

expect nothing
appreciate everything




the edge of the sea

Tuesday, August 5, 2014










just photos today - from my daily early morning walk along the sea's edge - how lucky am I ?

The edge of the sea is a strange and beautiful place. Rachel Carson

my three dog life

Monday, August 4, 2014


Jake, baby Winnie Dixon & my golden girl Emma Jane Louise - Em for short circa 2003 at the Gulf Shore Picnic Park Beach

People say bad memories cause the most pain, 
but actually it's the good one's that drive you insane. iliketoquote.com

I received an email on the weekend from someone named Tim who'd been using a metal detector at the Gulf Shore Beach and found a dog tag, Jake's dog tag with my name & address & phone number but minus the postal code. He Googled my name, instead of calling me (of course he did after all it's 2014 ;-) found this blog, found out about Jake - the much adored red retriever and also that Jake had passed on. He wanted to know my postal code so he could return the dog tag to me - how sweet & thoughtful. He and I exchanged a few emails and a few photos - I sent him this one he sent me one of his swimming fetching Corgi's (a rarity apparently ;-)

Back in these seemingly carefree & wonderful three dog days I was so much crazier braver ! I would take all three of them in my tiny little blue hatchback Mazda 323 early in the morning to avoid people or disturbing any non-dog people they do exist among us - be warned !  We would park, walk down the huge, long, grassy hill & onto the beach and I would let all three of them off leash !!! today I shudder at the thought (in fact I've shuddered often at the memories of all the potentially awful what ifs that could've been but thankfully never were - a nasty symptom of my affliction).

As you can see by this photo of very happy, wet dogs we would walk, especially far at low tide when the sandbars stretched on & out forever, we would fetch sticks, they would swim. We would all pile back into the car and be home before 8:30 & they would be beat at least until mid to late afternoon.

When I was young, elementary school age my best friend was Joan Henry and I spent practically all my non-school time at her house, her very motherly mother Mabel would ply us with mugs of tea (always made fresh in a pot which was then covered in a homely knit tea cozy) and homemade tiger cookies. Joan had older brothers, something extremely exotic and thrilling for me who had only one sibling a younger sister. Her older brothers used to play The Best of Three Dog Night* on repeat - Joan and I got so we could sing along to every song. This was my favourite song. * oh youtube I think I love you as much as I love google


a house of cards

Sunday, August 3, 2014











visual tales of my adventures - early morning near the Crescent beach / seaweed art / red geranium love / Winnie Dixon near the boat ramp at Dingy beach / gulls & gulls & gulls / a tiny beachside succulent forest / Monty's Emporium of Goodness window detail / periwinkles etc / our little harbour surrounded by wildflowers / black pine, lichen & 29 Black Street

He knew how to handle pain. You had to lie down with pain, not draw back away from it. You let yourself sort of move around the outside edge of pain like with cold water until you finally got up your nerve to take yourself in hand. Then you took a deep breath and dove in and let yourself sink down it clear to the bottom. And after you had been down inside pain a while you found that like with cold water it was not nearly as cold as you had thought it was when your muscles were cringing themselves away from the outside edge of it as you moved around it trying to get up your nerve. He knew pain. James Jones - From Here to Eternity


to me Pain is Fear, Pain is Sadness, Pain is Shame - I have all 3 in spades.

There's a part of me, of my psyche, a part of who I am that I've been trying, desperately at times, to kick to the curb- it's my predilection to continually be waiting for the sad axe to fall. The sad thing, the one biggy I've been predicting my whole life, the one I've been waiting and watching for as long as I can remember. Since childhood. Text books & pop psychology refer to this kind of anxiety & worry as hypervigilance, a sick twisted version of the sensible girl guide motto be prepared

Be prepared for anything, have a Plan B (C-K), be prepared to be knocked to the ground, get ready to be devastated, to be so sad as a result of this next and perhaps final sad axe falling that this time you will surely die of the sadness - it will hurt that bad. It's hard work this vigilance, and at the worst of times it makes me feel sick and anxious. The feelings, and reasons for feelings, become tangled and muddled they all meld together into a kind of constant, quiet hum of dread. I've described the feeling to be much like your going to go onstage - in 4 hours. Not that intense just about to go on stage but something much more subtle, a feeling that catches you in your stomach or at the back of your throat and whispers be careful ... something ... I can't be sure exactly what something, but some thing is just not right

Much of the time I'm not really even sure what I'm anxious about ... but I might as well keep up the guard because that something bad/sad could happen ... at any moment. I've convinced myself that it's best to be well prepared.

I wrote the above passage in September 2010 - I found it while lost a few nights ago in my own blog archives. Lately this demon hypervigilence has taken over my life, lately that trifecta of pain badness - Fear, Sadness & Shame has taken over ... it's a house of cards around here.

Truly feel pain, rather than know and understand pain. Don't confuse knowledge with emotions otherwise you will know recovery but never feel it. Rationalizing, minimizing and intellectually justifying our pain can be easier than feeling it and working through it. Robert Ackerman - Perfect Daughters: Adult Daughters of Alcoholics

This last quote makes so much sense to me but at the same time it's a complete puzzle - how does one know if you are truly feeling the pain or only knowing the pain - especially if that pain has been hangin' around as long as you can remember ?