Measured Breaths

I'm lying in bed trying to slow my breathing down. I'm trying desperately to stop myself from hyperventilating but controlled, even breaths just aren't coming. Tears roll down my cheek, unnoticed, as I focus more and more of my energies on taking in air deep into my lungs. Images flood my mind on fast forward and as each scene clicks past my consciousness my breathing quickens. Each in and out is like a knife in my chest. My heart races and I ball my hands into fists pressed against my eyes.

I want to call Quiet Confidence to talk me down, but I'm not sure I can speak on the phone. I don't want to call at 2am only to have him hear sobbing and my out of control breathing. Even larger than my desire to hear his voice is the fear that he won't pick up. The thought of reaching out and discovering that he's not available is terrifying. It is untested territory. It is easier to go it alone than call and have it confirmed that I really am alone.

Mr. Intellectual was full of unfulfilled promises and an inability to be supportive of me and it has forever tainted me. I remember the nights when I was suicidal and desperate calling out for help and he would refuse to come see me. He didn't even want to talk to me on the phone and his indifference to my pain pushed me further into the darkness. I remember the way it made me feel and how I lost respect and love for him over his behaviour. After we broke up I never wanted to feel like that with another person, especially someone I love.

That is why I lay at 2 am concentrating on the in and out of my breath while abhorrent images scream through my minds eye. It is easier to hear the next day that I should have called than to call in the moment and find myself listening to an answering machine instead of a real person.

In Season

Sweet Cherries are now in season on the farm. It has been really nice to walk out to the field in the early evening for some fresh cherries straight off the tree.

I like the quiet and seeing the progress made in the orchard. It is a world apart from what I do during the day and reminds me of my roots.

Empty ladders, left by the trees to be picked tomorrow.

I like to contemplate my work as I walk through the rows of trees. Or just think about life and how I'm feeling. It is a good time to check in with myself emotionally and work through things that are bothering me.

Cherries that didn't make the grade for market are dumped on the ground to be worked under.

The farm is a great place for some quiet contemplation. It also brings me back in touch with the rhythm of the seasons. If you live in Ontario now is the time to look for fresh, local sweet cherries at your farmer's market or grocery store. However, beware that what you're looking at might be cherries from Washington state, not Ontario - so read those signs carefully, or ask questions.

More Than A Hug

I close my eyes and let the sensations wash over me. The feel of your arms as they wrap around me and draw me in close. The smell of your shirt as I burrow my face into your chest, looking for that sweet spot somewhere between your shoulder and your neck; where my head fits perfectly into your body. I inhale deeply and feel myself slowly relaxing, the tension leaving my body. I cling to you for several moments, drawing strength from your calm assurance, from the solid mass of your frame. I feel safe and loved.

This is the moment I think about when I'm making the long drive to your place. It is the moment I dream about when we're apart during the week. It is the moment when my fears recede into the background. It is the moment when I can just be.

Everyday Life with PTSD

There are some things in life that time can not diminish. I'm finding that Post-Traumatic Stress is one of these things. I've spent a lot of time and energy over the past year or so working on my triggers, learning to feel safe and to trust again. There are however, moments when try as I might it comes crashing in on me. It happens in ways and circumstances that I just can't predict and work towards overcoming.

Yesterday I received a Canada Post notice in my mailbox. For the normal person this is a small matter of curiousity and possibly excitement. Who doesn't like getting mail? Instead I started to feel anxious and panicky. I wasn't expecting any packages- I hadn't ordered anything recently. A closer inspection of the notice indicated that it wasn't a package at all that I was supposed to pick up, but instead a letter. This set off more alarm bells and general waves of anxiety.

Instead of thinking logically about what the letter could be I immediately jumped into wild speculations of something from my stalker or something to do with him. I couldn't help myself. I felt sick to my stomach and refused to face my fears straight on by picking it up that afternoon. Instead I waited to talk to Quiet Confidence that evening before I decided what I was going to do. After talking me down a bit and reassuring me it was fine I agreed t0 go the next day to pick it up. If it was a plain envelope that didn't give me any clues of its origin I'd wait to open it until later when I would be at QC's house. It seemed like a rational, sane plan but I was still really worried. I spent a while that night fretting over the letter and what the hell the stalker could possibly want from me after all this time. Fear is a real and powerful emotion.

This morning over breakfast it came to me in a flash of insight what was waiting for me at the Post Office. I had gone in about a week ago to apply for a passport and it was supposed to be mailed to me after processing. I was told it wouldn't be ready before the end of the month so I had completely forgotten about it. Once I realized what was going on I started to tear up in frustration.

This summer is the 5 year mark of when the whole stalking nightmare began. I had hoped that after 5 years I wouldn't be bothered by it all, and the PTSD would be just a distant memory. It frustrates me that it still crops up. I'm beginning to think it will always be a part of me, even if it is only in the occasional relapse or situational episode. I hate that the unexpected sends me into a tailspin. I hate that I can't handle surprises. I hate that I can't answer the phone if it's not a number I recognize. After 5 years I still hold my breath for a second before I open up my email. There are some days when it makes me uncomfortable to go outside the house in public, so I hide out at home with the doors locked. I know that this is not a normal way to live.

Despite all of this I think I've made a lot of progress in the past year. I can generally recognize when I'm heading into trouble and take steps to alleviate the symptoms of my PTSD. Instead of being in the throws of an episode for weeks on end I can generally keep it confined to a couple of hours if I'm lucky or a few days if I'm not. It helps a lot that Quiet Confidence knows about it all and can sometimes tell if it's PTSD or something else bothering me. Having a supportive and understanding partner has helped me to build the safety net I need to function as normally as possible. I just wish I could handle being surprised a little bit better than I currently do.

Straight out of an Episode of Hoarders

Shortly after Christmas I received a free one month preview from one of the cable providers in my area. This preview introduced me to the A&E show Hoarders and I quickly became fascinated and slightly obsessed. For those who haven't heard of this show, the website describes it as a "fascinating look inside the lives of two different people whose inability to part with their belongings is so out of control that they are on the verge of a personal crisis." A lot of these crisis are quite serious - everything from losing their kids, evictions, and having their house condemned to adult protective services stepping in if they're seniors and taking them into custody. It's tragic and depressing to watch, while occasionally being down right disgusting to see what conditions people actually live in.

The show is a train wreck but I couldn't avert my eyes. It reminded me of a couple of incidents and behaviours I had experienced in previous relationships. I had all but forgotten a lot of it but I remember that at the time I couldn't understand why they did certain things. I chalked a lot of it up to being males and naturally predisposed to living in unkempt conditions. Their places went beyond just a little messy though and fell more towards the downright disgusting and unsanitary. It was more than apathy and laziness that was causing them to not clean up after themselves.

More than their sheer laziness and filthy homes I remembered my behaviour when confronted with these things. I was left wondering what on earth possessed me to do the things I did, especially considering I didn't really like either of the guys. I was with them, but I didn't consider myself to be dating them. It was a strange time in my life when I was what I defined as the "un-girlfriend". I was the girl they thought they were dating, however I didn't exactly treat them well or act like they were legitimate boyfriends. The Jock never even knew where I lived, never met any of my friends and definitely was not introduced to my family. Candidate #2 knew where I lived, but never stayed over and only made it inside the door twice in the year we were seeing each other. The only reason he was inside my home was because he was picking me up and the second time he had stopped over with flowers in a desperate bid to keep me when he knew I was fed up and wanted out.

In both cases I remember doing their dishes on a number of occasions when I was so fed up with the filth. In Candidate #2's case it happened a lot because he hated dishes and lived alone so there was no one else around to complain. He would leave food and random plate scraps in the sink along with his dishes for days and days. I would hazard a guess that some of the pots and pans could spend weeks sitting in the sink and he would turn a blind eye to it all. He also had the nasty habit of leaving leftovers in the fridge to die. Generally it was just easier to throw out the tupperware than to try to empty its noxious contents and wash it for reuse.

I also remember showing up one afternoon when the Jock was at work to clean out his room. It wasn't the biggest room in the student rental and it was made even smaller by the fact that there was garbage, paperwork, clothes and random detritus all over the floor and piled up in random areas. There was a small path from the door to the bed that was sort of clear and enough room to open the bedroom door, but that was about it. I remember spending an afternoon in there with a couple of garbage bags sifting through the garbage and bringing some order to the chaos. I remember that I was so tired of the mess and so desperate to spend one night there in a some what clean bedroom.

This cleaning up behaviour on my part seemed to escalate over time because over a year later I was with Candidate #2 and doing the same thing. I remember cleaning up an entire 2 bedroom townhouse this time around. I couldn't stand the cigarette butts piled over top the ashtray and onto the coffee table, random bits of ash on all kinds of surfaces. The small mountain of pop cans and empty water bottles scattered throughout the house, the stupid pot paraphernalia littered about, the balled up socks discarded in the living room and the mountains of dirty laundry in the basement with matching cousins in the bedroom. I remember one day in particular I had reached my limit and kind of cracked.

I had been avoiding staying over night for a while because he hadn't washed his extremely dirty sheets in a couple of weeks. I couldn't handle the situation and needed to find order in the chaos, both in that house and in my head. Over the course of the day I washed somewhere in the neighbourhood of 12 or 13 loads of laundry, finding shorts from our June camping trip on the bottom of the pile - it was November. I threw out a couple of cases worth of empty water bottles and nearly as many in empty diet coke. Old newspapers, pizza boxes, junk fliers, candy wrappers, McDonald's bags - it all got tossed in the dumpster. I'm not even sure how many garbage bags I took out that day. I stopped short of cleaning the bathroom or vacuuming, but everything else was fair game. I'm not really sure why I bothered. I think I wanted out of the relationship, but instead of dealing with the abstract reality of that I could only cope with the physical reality in front of me.

Watching episode after episode of Hoarders brought up all those old feelings and memories. It wasn't the proudest time in my life, nor one of the easiest. I don't like that I reverted into a maternal figure and cleaned up after them. I don't like that I settled for men at the time that I was ashamed of and didn't really like. I don't like that I was in such a head space that I was kind of ok with hanging out in a place that looked like it belonged on an episode of Hoarders. Eventually I was so overloaded by the show that I stopped watching. I can't handle watching another episode of Hoarders because it makes my skin crawl and it makes me feel like I'm right back there in the living room of the Jock's house or Candidate #2's. It's a feeling and a time I'd rather forget about right now.

A Life in Flux

I've entered into another period of great changes in my life. I've decided to move home for financial and mental health reasons. I'm not certain that the decision is the right one considering that I haven't lived at home in 6 years. It also means giving up certain freedoms and making compromises. That being said, I really hope that it improves my overall quality of life and gives me the much needed mental boost that I've been looking for over the past year.

For the past year I've been under a low-grade and constant depression, which has been compounded by some unresolved health issues. I'm hoping that this round of specialists and testing will be able to give me some answers or at least resolve the worry I've felt about it.

I have just under 2 months left in my current University town to wrap up loose ends, pack and hopefully finish up with my Specialists in this area. It doesn't mean that I'll be packing in my Ph.D., but rather that I'll be moving office locations and commuting when necessary. I've never been enamoured with my current city, nor with the University itself. I'm hoping that with some distance and perspective that I can learn to love my University and my degree again. In any case, I'll at least be surrounding by some very supportive people and an environment that has been restful for me in the past. I just need something stable at the moment to anchor myself to.

Olympic Pride

Today is a proud day to be a Canadian. Not only for our gold medal games in both women's and men's Hockey at the Olympics, but also for our overall performance. We stood up well to the test and I'm so proud of all our athletes, regardless of whether or not they made it to the podium.

As the host nation of the 2010 Winter Olympics I think Vancouver did a fine job showcasing our country and celebrating not only our achievements, but the achievements of all the athletes. It reminds me of why I love my country and why I am proud to say I am Canadian!

2009 in Review

Ever since Christmas day the newspapers have been running all these 'year in review' articles - everything from disasters of the year to viral videos of the year and everything in between. For the most part I've been skipping over them since I find them tedious and annoying. Do we really need to know which celebrities had the worst scandals of the year? I do not want to read my celebrity trash in my national newspaper. If I want celebrity fluff I check out dlisted, not my Canadian paper.


That being said it made me think over a few things from the past year as I changed out my old calendar for my new one. I usually write on my calendar when I've been to the gym and done what so that I can keep track and use it as motivation. This year has been rather sparse in the gym as evidenced by my ever-expanding waistline (much to my discomfort). I decided to tally up the hours.

16 hours on a spin bike
9 hours on a yoga mat

There was some other miscellaneous stuff in there, but the most significant time put in was yoga and spin.

In other areas of my life some of the 'big' things to happen in 2009 were:

- The birth of my nephew to brother #3 and his wife on January 1st

- The marriage of brother #4, the World Traveler, on February 10th.
This was a hard one since none of the family was invited and it happened spontaneously in front of a Justice of the Peace on a random Tuesday in February. We had been struggling with his wedding announcement since he had been dating his wife for only a few months when he told us, and we had only met her once. We are still struggling with this one as she came with two little boys with some interesting issues.

- In May, Quiet Confidence and I shared our one-year anniversary together and promptly celebrated by not going to Montreal like we had originally planned.

- The graduation of my 'son', brother #6 and the baby of the family, from University in June.

- The engagement of brother #2 in mid-December to a wonderful girl that he has been seeing for the past year. The whole family is excited for their upcoming summer wedding.

I can't be certain what 2010 holds for me, or my family. I can only hope it won't be such a roller coaster of a year, but it's so hard to tell at the moment. Either way it will definitely be a year of transition as Quiet Confidence looks for work, having recently completed his Bachelor's degree. I have my comprehensive exams in spring, which are monumental and signal the shift from reading and writing to research and writing for my thesis- a completely different and altogether scary prospect.

Germ Warfare

Call me crazy, but this year I just don't want to get sick. I do not want an extra cold or the flu or any other malady this winter if I can help it. It's not just the H1N1 pandemic, it is any illness that my students drag into the classroom. Many of them live in University residences which can be a hotbed of strange infectious diseases. Others live in high density housing with anywhere from 2-6 students per house. University students can be just as bad as small elementary school-age children for spreading germs and illness.

With this in mind I've taken the unconventional step of putting my students midterms in the freezer overnight (double wrapped in plastic to avoid moisture) to kill any wayward viruses and bugs. I'm not 100% convinced it will get everything, but whatever I can do to slightly decrease my chances of getting sick is welcomed. This is not something I've ever done before and I may not do it again. I'm just taking some precautions considering how much I'll be touching these midterms over the next week or so while I'm marking them. I heard about this technique through the academic grapevine. I'm not sure if it's more the stuff of urban campus legend, or scientifically proven. Either way, it won't hurt their exams.

Company's Coming

I know I missed the past two days of blogging for NaBloPoMo. I had a bit of a school related crisis that made me implode for a bit. I may or may not write about it in the next few days. Lets just say that I may decide that striving for a Ph.d is not something I want to pursue anymore.

Instead of talking about that, I've decided to talk about what I like to do in preparation for a visit from Quiet Confidence. These are some things I like to do before his arrival, in no particular order:

- Clean the bathroom. I like the smell and look of a freshly scrubbed bathroom. It's also a bit of courtesy for me to neatly put away all the toiletries and things that litter my bathroom counter during the week. It's a small space and if we're sharing it for a couple of days it means there's no counter space for his things unless I tidy up.

- Catch up on all my laundry, which includes making sure there are fresh towels in the bathroom for both of us and the sheets on my bed are new. Nothing beats sleeping in clean sheets that first night.

- Wash my dishes and clean up the kitchen.

- Buy all the groceries I need for the weekend, included drink items like coke that I never use but he likes, a bottle of wine if we're feeling decadent, or some other treat. This is when I would normally plan ahead for dinners I plan to make and potentially bake a dessert for us, or a little snack of something tasty. Baking cookies also helps to make my place smell great.

- The obligatory shave, pluck, wax and general maintenance that needs to be done. If it's summer I'll probably repaint my toenails. In winter things slide a bit more.

- I straighten all the paperwork, books and files in my office area so it has some semblance of organization. Otherwise it looks like a file cabinet vomited all over my office - the hazards of still being a student. I'm a little jealous of QC because 90% or more of his work is on computer files that are all neatly out of sight and always well organized.

- A general once over of the rest of my apartment to pick up stray books, put away all the shoes that stack up next to the door during the week, and put things in order in general.

- I may also download a couple of movies for us to watch if we choose to spend a lazy evening at home, but that's not always a given.


The list looks a little like a 1950's housewife manual, but I like having things looking clean and presentable before I have company. I also don't like wasting my precious weekend time with QC running errands for grocery items I've forgotten when I want to make something in particular for dinner. I think it's my mother's influence. Saturday's were always spent cleaning up the house, catching up on laundry and generally getting things in order for the coming week. Since I don't want to spend my Saturday with QC doing that I'll make sure it's all done the Thursday or Friday before, depending on which day he comes over.

NaBloPoMo, Day 4

I've been a bit busy today trying to prepare myself for a meeting tomorrow with one of my supervisors. I'm not feeling particularly creative, so in order to fulfill my requirements for NaBloPoMo I will post a couple things I am thankful for today. (I can't believe I'm already treating it like a task that needs to be completed instead of a creative exercise, but oh well).

1. I'm thankful that I didn't have to go to school today because it rained and snowed off and on all day.

2. I'm thankful for the wireless network that just popped up and I can use, even though it's not mine.

3. I'm thankful for the leftovers that Quiet Confidence sent home with me after the weekend, because it meant I had a decent dinner tonight without having to do much work to get it.

4. I'm thankful I had kleenex in the house, courtesy of my Mother, because my nose wouldn't stop running today. I either have the start of a cold or something is bothering my allergies.

Freedom (from the internet)

I found an application called Freedom through a roundabout way and it looked interesting. Freedom promised to help my productivity by disabling networking on Apple computers for up to 8 hours. This way even if I wanted to go online to surf randomness I couldn't. Forcing myself to concentrate on my own work for a preset time sounded like the perfect solution to my issue. The only way to circumvent the timer on Freedom meant rebooting my computer - which seemed cumbersome enough that I won't do it lightly. Unfortunately I couldn't get it to work on my computer and I couldn't figure out why not from their support page.

If you're an academic or just can't break yourself of constantly checking email or webpage updates, instead of keeping your focus on the task at hand, this seems like a very handy application. It did get a lot of good press and reviews.

NaBloPoMo

It's National Blog Posting Month again. I'm going to give it a shot and hope for the best. Last year I crashed and burned in a matter of days. Let's hope I have something to say for the next 29 days and actually remember to post it.

I suspect that weekends when Quiet Confidence is here, or I'm at his place will be the hardest.

An Odd Observation

The other morning I was in the shower when something odd dawned on me. I live alone, however I have five different shampoo's in the shower, and two different types of conditioner. I never realized I had accumulated such a collection by accident. I never did this when I lived with house mates. I wonder what other weird things I've bought multiples of without realizing it.

Memories of a Happier Day

One day in July, Quiet Confidence and I took a drive out to one of the Great Lakes to spend some time at the beach. On our way out there, driving on a random country road, we spotted a row of windmills that stretched far into the distance. It was a fascinating and beautiful sight as the propellers slowly moved, quietly and almost in sync, to the imperceptible summer breeze.

The Past Never Stays in the Past

The weather is cooling off and the students are returning to campus and my thoughts turn not to the fall term, but rather to my failures and shortcomings. Instead of feeling the optimism of a new term and the possibilities inherent in a new school year I feel the weight of the previous terms. I cast back to that fall four years ago now, where a middle-aged man I worked with in my hometown accelerated his obsession and began stalking me in my University town. It was a situation that I have come to learn is not all that uncommon, even though I feel it should be. It escalated until one night I was raped and held against my will for over four hours until I convinced him that I had to get home and couldn’t stay with him in his car all night. After that he really came undone. It all ended with a confrontation with the police one afternoon when he showed up unannounced and uninvited to my apartment building.

I think women are taught to be nice, even when perhaps it’s not in their best interests. I know that fear for my summer job, and thinking I could reason with a person completely out of touch with reality is what led me so deep into the situation. I was trying to be nice, letting him down easy- trying to redirect his attention away from me without angering him. I was completely unfit to handle the situation. I also wanted to keep it quiet from my family and friends, thinking I could get it all to go away without having it public knowledge. I tolerated behaviour and actions at work that escalated the problem because I didn’t know who to trust or who I could go to. I was also trying to be nice when I shouldn’t have tolerated any of it for a second. I was naïve. I assumed that when I left my position for the school year that the problem would go away. I was horribly wrong and have had to live with consequences of that ignorance ever since. Even after the police became involved I stayed quiet on the most horrific aspects of the case because I was thinking of his children. I also didn’t want to deal with a trial situation and having my life aired out in public. It was very much a he-said, she-said situation and I couldn’t handle the possibility that I might lose. I also thought that if he lost his job because of me that it would give him more reason to be obsessed with me, so I kept my mouth shut.

I wish I could say I’m over it and well on the road to recovery, but my past does not stay in the past. At times I’m angry that I didn’t get any kind of justice or retribution. As far as I know he went on his merry way and life did not change all that much for him, while my life changed dramatically. I still have the occasional nightmare or flashback- fall seems to have a huge amount of triggers that put me back in that place. Talking about it or even thinking about what happened during those couple of months brings me to tears or I break out in a cold sweat. I struggle with focus and motivation as well as extreme fear that has no basis in reality. I feel like I have been unable to reclaim my life, but am stuck in some kind of limbo or purgatory where I exhibit victim behaviour and can’t completely move past it all.

A Difference in Perspectives

While Quiet Confidence and I share a lot of common interests and sensibilities there is one fundamental characteristic in which we are polar opposites of each other. It is a very stark contrast and something both of us have puzzled over in private and together, not quite able to understand how the other person can be this way or how it functions.

Quiet Confidence possesses an unending optimism and positive outlook on life. It is not however, the galling kind wherein the optimism is a “Susie Sunshine” naivety in the face of incontrovertible facts to the opposite. I on the other hand seem to naturally favour a more pragmatic outlook, something I see as a starkly realistic approach to life. Sometimes it slides into pessimism on the negative side, but that I believe has more to do with the depression and happens only on my lowest days.

QC described it to me as a choice you can make, so why not choose to take the positive approach? He sees it as a “why not?” proposition- I don’t understand his choice and puzzle over how he can instinctively reach for that side of the coin. His outlook certainly isn’t because he has lived a charmed and sheltered life free from struggle or tragedy. Quite the opposite really, which is what puzzles me all the more about his mindset. Given everything he has experienced, how can he still remain so unfailingly positive?

There is something in my brain chemistry or make-up that prevents me from grabbing onto the positives in any situation as a first instinct. While I also try to make the best of any situation facing me, I chose not to put on a happy face about it, but rather to approach it with steely determination, with my eyes wide open to what I face. I would rather know exactly what kinds of highs and lows I can expect than to assume everything is positive and will be fine because life really doesn’t work that way. QC completely does not understand this about me. He doesn’t understand at all how I naturally gravitate towards the darker side of things.

This light versus dark outlook is something I know will continually mystify and intrigue each of us. Neither one of us will ever completely understand the other, but I don’t think you can ever really truly know someone and everything about him or her. Then again, that’s my pessimistic side showing itself. It has already made it difficult at times for me to explain my depression to QC because it is a phenomena that is completely foreign and new to him. He has never been exposed to it, where as this is something I have been dealing with for years now. There are plenty of times that I have struggled to find the words to describe or explain it for him adequately. I don’t think you can completely understand depression without having experienced it personally, but I will continue to help him in trying to understand it.

A Persistent Feeling

It’s like a persistent rainy day. A soft grey drizzle, more like a mist than a full-blown downpour. It’s there with me when I wake up and follows me around all day. I’m not really sure how to shake it off anymore. A low level, chronic depression has been following me around for months now and I can’t seem to find the root of it or figure a way out of it. There are moments when the clouds lift and I forget all about the depression, however after a few hours or a few days it comes creeping back in. It’s not the deeper kind of depression where I just want to sleep all the time, constantly think about suicide and enter into an almost catatonic state of emotion where I’m unable to feel or connect with others. Mostly it just saps my energy, my motivation to accomplish things and my ability to focus on a task at hand.

I’m in the process of finding a new birth control pill so I don’t want to start anti-depressants in case this is related to the switch in hormones. Part of me is hoping that with the right pill that my depression will lift, however the rational, nagging part of my brain is telling me it’s more than just birth control. There is something else pulling me down. Something else is sapping my motivation and making it difficult to concentrate, focus and realize the goals I make for myself every day.

These are the days I feel like the biggest fuck-up and nothing I do is ever good enough. Quiet Confidence say’s I should go easier on myself, but it’s almost impossible to shut off that negative voice in my head. It’s a constant litany of self-abuse in my head. It’s unrelenting and just part of the depression I’ve kind of grown accustomed to. This in and of itself is kind of sad.

Rose of Sharon Progress, II

Mirabilia's Rose of Sharon

Since early 2006 (Rose of Sharon in 2006) I have been working sporadically on a cross-stitch pattern for my mother. I'll go at it for a bit and then work or depression causes me to put it down for months. With the stress of my comprehensive readings upon me I've taken it up again. I hadn't stitched on it for 6 months prior to that, but I need something relaxing and slightly mindless in the evenings to help me unwind and forget about my comps. I've made a lot of progress since my last update (Rose of Sharon in 2007). Despite all of the progress I still have a lot of stitching to go before it's done and I can move on to another project. With lots of effort I could maybe finish it for Christmas this year, but a more conservative and realistic estimate would be early Spring in time for my Mom's birthday.

My Disordered Life

This morning after I opened up my laptop I realized that I had downloaded a bunch of files that were cluttering up my desktop. The problem being that it was research and not easily slotted into my half-hazard filing system. My computer is a mess. Parts of it are very organized and clean, while others resemble my hall closet (which honestly, lets not go there).

If I could have just one wish today it would be that I would wake up tomorrow and my computer would have magically cleaned itself up and organized itself in a logical, simplistic manner without my help. Quiet Confidence has offered before to "help" me clean up my computer and create some order around here. After seeing how neat and tidy his computer files are I'm quite aware that he knows how to organize a computer- he is after all a computer scientist. I wish I could just give it to him to do and he could magically see inside my head and understand my files, their seemingly random descriptors and how I want my computer to look when cleaned up. Alas, I am the only one who can adequately do this job and it makes me want to just delete every single thing on my computer and start over. Except I have 6 years of research on here that I need. I would cry if I lost that much work.