This week saw the loss of two members of my big global family. One was the mother of a friend of mine and the other was a family friend. I am pleased to say that in both cases they lived incredibly long and happy lives.
It's not easy saying goodbye, but sometimes there is something profound about a memorial service. I hate the word 'funeral'. It sounds so austere and foreboding. But 'memorial'...to me that is about remembering loved ones and celebrating their lives. In the case of our family friend I was very sad but when I reminisced with my mother about him we ended up laughing most of the time instead because he was just that much of a joyous and memorable person. We also said that the crematorium where the service was being held was far too small considering everyone who wanted to turn up.
I think that celebrating a person's life can sometimes be very healing. Perhaps it's because it takes the attention away from our grief, we celebrate what that person meant to so many other people. I've found that by talking about how funny Joe was and what an incredibly vibrant person he was it stopped me from falling to pieces. And there is a lesson there for me too. Joe had a very, very long life and a very happy one, but life can be fleetingly short, and it is important to live your life with great passion and joy and meaning. Joe was an avid hunter, a very respected member of both the local hunting and fishing communities, and the most incredible painter I had ever had the pleasure of knowing.
We are, in some ways, a legacy of the people who go before us, especially if they are family. We can serve as an important link to one another in our time of grief. I think the loved ones who pass before us would want nothing better for us than to see us supporting each other and living life to the full.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
What the Quake Taught Me
Three weeks ago we had a 7.1 earthquake. This was, as you can imagine, tremendously shocking, most of all due to the fact that my town is not known for dramatic seismic activity. When everyone predicted "the big one" they thought it would be in Wellington. They were wrong.
The actual magnitude of the quake surprised me because a lot of friends overseas were scared for me and told me tales of what happened during the Loma Pieta quake and other quakes of similar strength. The damage was pretty extensive in many areas, but in some cases where one building would be completely devastated, the building right next to it would be fine. We were extremely fortunate to have sustained no damage at my house whatsoever, with the loss of one cup and one plate and that was it.
We've had lots of aftershocks which means the city is sleep deprived and stressed, but we're all in this together. For me, the quake has been a life-changing experience, a time to reflect on exactly what is important in life...and what is not. I wanted to share some of my insights with you:
The quake brought home how incredibly LUCKY I have been this year. Firstly, our house was fine when my parents' home is still potentially un-liveable. Where other people had to have days off work and study, my work was still open for business and operating as usual with no damage. I graduated a semester early this year, and so had I still been studying at this time my studies would have been affected because the semester has had to be shortened and condensed due to quake damage at the university. If I had still been working in my old job at the university, I would have lost two weeks' pay. LUCKY. Very lucky, and very grateful.
The quake reminded me who my friends are, and who would be better off out of my life. Immediately after the quake I had messages from around the world, hoping I was safe because they had heard about it on the news. A friend whom I've only known for about six months stayed up all night (Northern Hemisphere time) to keep up to date with me. People I've only just met this year showered me with love and kept me smiling when I just wanted to crumple. In contrast, a friend I'd known for eleven years was mysteriously silent. She was a person whom I'd contemplated cutting from my life for some time, somebody who never asked about my new job or really cared about anything in my life and who only ever talked about herself. She was draining and when I was very ill she was a taker. So I made the decision to walk away. The quake was the final straw, I could have been dead for all she knew and she didn't care.
The quake has helped me to let go of a lot of hang-ups and issues. I look at it as being a rebirth of sorts, that things before the quake don't really matter as much. We have a rental property house inspection today, and normally when these come around I fret and stress about how tidy the house is and how clean it looks. Today I'm thinking, it's a house. We don't put huge holes in the wall, we take care of it, we're not running a meth lab. Who cares. I came home yesterday from work, and was supposed to do a quick clean and I just thought, you know what? No. I'm not wasting my time on this. At work, I do my job but when I get out of the door I don't feel guilty for not doing full time. And I relish the time I have in the afternoons.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Facing Facts
Yes, I have been AWOL on here for some time. I do apologise.
Life got in the way big-time. It also very much got in the way of my diet and exercise also.
I have a new job that I start today. I had to buy clothes on the weekend, and struggling to get into a size 16 skirt and nearly busting out of a size 18 top I suddenly realize that this is the largest I have ever been. I don't need the scales to tell me that. I know. I feel it, I see it. To add insult to injury, the advertising on the back of the dressing room stall's door is for the store's line of shapewear! What are they trying to say? I feel bad enough as it is with the hideous lighting illuminating every roll of fat!
But as I said, I am starting a new job, and with that I am hoping to change my life. My job is reasonably sedentary, but as I am only working four hours a week I will still be able to fit in a workout. In fact, I still have my university gym membership until 14 December, and from work the university is not that far away. My partner still works at the university, so what I can get him to do for me is for him to take my gym gear with him, I'll pop into his office and voila! Also, on the days I don't work out and the weather gets warmer and nicer, I will be able to walk home from work. It only takes about 30-40 minutes.
Thankfully, there are no vending machines at work, which is one of my 'trouble areas'. BUT I am 10 minutes from the mall, KFC is literally down the road from work, and there's a posh cafe right next door to the office. But I'm aware of my trouble zones, so that's okay.
I'm also beginning to realise that there are certain foods I cannot have in the house right now, because I can't be trusted not to binge on them: potato chips and cookies.
I got enough of a wake-up call in the changing rooms to really start thinking about what I'm doing to my body and spirit.
Life got in the way big-time. It also very much got in the way of my diet and exercise also.
I have a new job that I start today. I had to buy clothes on the weekend, and struggling to get into a size 16 skirt and nearly busting out of a size 18 top I suddenly realize that this is the largest I have ever been. I don't need the scales to tell me that. I know. I feel it, I see it. To add insult to injury, the advertising on the back of the dressing room stall's door is for the store's line of shapewear! What are they trying to say? I feel bad enough as it is with the hideous lighting illuminating every roll of fat!
But as I said, I am starting a new job, and with that I am hoping to change my life. My job is reasonably sedentary, but as I am only working four hours a week I will still be able to fit in a workout. In fact, I still have my university gym membership until 14 December, and from work the university is not that far away. My partner still works at the university, so what I can get him to do for me is for him to take my gym gear with him, I'll pop into his office and voila! Also, on the days I don't work out and the weather gets warmer and nicer, I will be able to walk home from work. It only takes about 30-40 minutes.
Thankfully, there are no vending machines at work, which is one of my 'trouble areas'. BUT I am 10 minutes from the mall, KFC is literally down the road from work, and there's a posh cafe right next door to the office. But I'm aware of my trouble zones, so that's okay.
I'm also beginning to realise that there are certain foods I cannot have in the house right now, because I can't be trusted not to binge on them: potato chips and cookies.
I got enough of a wake-up call in the changing rooms to really start thinking about what I'm doing to my body and spirit.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Not Alone
One of my missions in writing this blog is to share my experiences of having a mental illness, and to also say that it's OK to not be 'OK'. I apologise if this is all over the place but I need to pour my heart out.
A friend of mine posted her 'Class of 2000' reunion pictures on Facebook. We didn't go to the same school, and I was class of '99 anyway. But seeing the smiling faces of people ten years on from their high school graduation made me smile too. Why? I may not have been here ten years later writing this. Something which affected me greatly this week was a piece about an anonymous person posting his/her suicidal wish to PostSecret, the anonymous postcard phenomenon. 60,000 people banded together to try and get a message to this anonymous poster to reassure them that they were not alone and were loved. And what amazed me most of all was the amount of teenagers who did this. I was so proud of every single one of them. When I was diagnosed with depression, it was taboo and not talked about, really. What I am seeing now from this side of things is that teens are often misunderstood...and I believe that teen depression is often misinterpreted as just being moody teenagers. One phenomenon that wasn't talked about when I was in high school is the bullying of GLBT teens, as well as cyber bullying. It's bad enough being a GLBT teen trying to navigate the perils of high school, but now the bullies can reach you right in your living room.
I was bullied from day one at primary school, through high school and unbelievably when I went to teacher's college, which was disgusting. So you imagine all of those years of being told you weren't good enough, that something was obviously wrong with you but nobody ever told you what it was except for the fact it had something to do with being bright, something you had no control over. And it took its toll. I attempted suicide in my senior year and was diagnosed with depression but at this point the after-care was non-existent apart from handing me some pills. As bad as being depressed and suicidal was, the time afterwards was my lowest point. I am still angry at the girls who bullied me, I don't know how you make your way through that kind of pain and come out the other side but with a lot of research and experience I have been able to reconstruct my life and make it a happy one.
When you are so low that you can't believe you're still alive and wonder why you are, I think that's when you can rebuild. I lived, and there was obviously a reason for that. I guess what I really want to say is that there are so many people in the world who feel alone, who are suffering from depression or another form of mental illness and they are real, living, breathing people, not a circus sideshow. If I could go back to that young person I was ten years ago I would tell her she wasn't alone, even if it felt like that. That life really is worth living, that it's not the circumstances, it's the crazy brain chemicals making her think otherwise. I'd ask her to take care of herself.
A friend of mine posted her 'Class of 2000' reunion pictures on Facebook. We didn't go to the same school, and I was class of '99 anyway. But seeing the smiling faces of people ten years on from their high school graduation made me smile too. Why? I may not have been here ten years later writing this. Something which affected me greatly this week was a piece about an anonymous person posting his/her suicidal wish to PostSecret, the anonymous postcard phenomenon. 60,000 people banded together to try and get a message to this anonymous poster to reassure them that they were not alone and were loved. And what amazed me most of all was the amount of teenagers who did this. I was so proud of every single one of them. When I was diagnosed with depression, it was taboo and not talked about, really. What I am seeing now from this side of things is that teens are often misunderstood...and I believe that teen depression is often misinterpreted as just being moody teenagers. One phenomenon that wasn't talked about when I was in high school is the bullying of GLBT teens, as well as cyber bullying. It's bad enough being a GLBT teen trying to navigate the perils of high school, but now the bullies can reach you right in your living room.
I was bullied from day one at primary school, through high school and unbelievably when I went to teacher's college, which was disgusting. So you imagine all of those years of being told you weren't good enough, that something was obviously wrong with you but nobody ever told you what it was except for the fact it had something to do with being bright, something you had no control over. And it took its toll. I attempted suicide in my senior year and was diagnosed with depression but at this point the after-care was non-existent apart from handing me some pills. As bad as being depressed and suicidal was, the time afterwards was my lowest point. I am still angry at the girls who bullied me, I don't know how you make your way through that kind of pain and come out the other side but with a lot of research and experience I have been able to reconstruct my life and make it a happy one.
When you are so low that you can't believe you're still alive and wonder why you are, I think that's when you can rebuild. I lived, and there was obviously a reason for that. I guess what I really want to say is that there are so many people in the world who feel alone, who are suffering from depression or another form of mental illness and they are real, living, breathing people, not a circus sideshow. If I could go back to that young person I was ten years ago I would tell her she wasn't alone, even if it felt like that. That life really is worth living, that it's not the circumstances, it's the crazy brain chemicals making her think otherwise. I'd ask her to take care of herself.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
All Work and No Play (or Sunshine)...
Sometimes when you are waiting for rainbows there is a whooooole lotta rain to get through. In my case, it's been both metaphorical and literal this week! It has been raining nonstop for the past four days. And not hard rain, either. It's been that awful, drizzly rain that gets over everything and makes the air feel really oppressive. Of course the cat has been loving ducking in and out in the rain because she gets to be toweled off when she comes back inside. It's also the end of semester, and the end of the exam period, so I am at a loose end. All the stress came off literally in an instant after I finished my last exam on Thursday morning and I collapsed. I'm still feeling incredibly mentally frazzled. So we have the oppressive weather, my mental exhaustion and a touch of winter blues. It makes Rainbow an incredibly foul person to live with. When you start to understand what Jack Torrance was going through in "The Shining"...yeah, bad sign. Then again I think I'd go crazy being around Shelley Duvall as well.
Today thankfully is the first day of sunshine, although when the curtains were pulled back I squinted from the sheer burst of sunlight. I'm starting to think that vampires aren't vampires, they're people who suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder like me. As for the mood and the low energy, I have to just ride it out and fortify myself with nourishing foods instead of stodge. It's so tempting in the winter to immerse yourself in full-fat hot chocolate, creamy pasta, mashed potatoes with lashings of butter,bagels with cream cheese...or maybe that's just me. But no, I must go towards the light (literally) and nibble the foods that help support my serotonin levels instead of diminishing them. I find it exceptionally hard to keep mentally well in winter. Colds and flu don't bother me much, I can deal with those, it's mental unwellness that has me in its grip. And worse yet, if I am allowed to graduate early I am going to be at a loose end this winter, so I will have to find plenty of things to keep myself occupied. Exercise is definitely a must. Part of the reason I have been so cranky the past few days is because I desperately wanted to go for a long brisk walk through the park but couldn't. Here's hoping for a few more rain-free days.
Today thankfully is the first day of sunshine, although when the curtains were pulled back I squinted from the sheer burst of sunlight. I'm starting to think that vampires aren't vampires, they're people who suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder like me. As for the mood and the low energy, I have to just ride it out and fortify myself with nourishing foods instead of stodge. It's so tempting in the winter to immerse yourself in full-fat hot chocolate, creamy pasta, mashed potatoes with lashings of butter,bagels with cream cheese...or maybe that's just me. But no, I must go towards the light (literally) and nibble the foods that help support my serotonin levels instead of diminishing them. I find it exceptionally hard to keep mentally well in winter. Colds and flu don't bother me much, I can deal with those, it's mental unwellness that has me in its grip. And worse yet, if I am allowed to graduate early I am going to be at a loose end this winter, so I will have to find plenty of things to keep myself occupied. Exercise is definitely a must. Part of the reason I have been so cranky the past few days is because I desperately wanted to go for a long brisk walk through the park but couldn't. Here's hoping for a few more rain-free days.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Look What The Cat Dragged In
Sadly, there are some times when drama cannot be avoided in one's life. Yesterday was a prime example. We managed to have a bit of a lie-in and a relaxing morning, but I was feeling a bit cooped up so we decided to go for a bit of a drive around the bays. However, as we go out the door, who should we see in the window of the house next door...but Hazel. And the neighbor wasn't home. She was crying out to us but there was nothing we could do but wait until the neighbor got home and hope she wasn't going down south to her parents for the weekend like she does.
Thankfully, at about 6:45pm the neighbor came home and Orlon went to see her but Hazel must have dashed out unseen when the neighbor first opened her door because she was nowhere to be found. So we thought, OK, she'll be home soon. We waited. And waited. And waited. At 9:00pm Orlon went searching around the neighborhood with the flashlight but Hazel was nowhere to be seen. My biggest worry was that in Hazel's blind panic to get out, she'd run across the road and gotten bowled by a car. Thankfully next to our apartments there is a vacant lot that all of the neighborhood cats frequent when they want to go somewhere.
It got to about 10:45 and I started crying. This wasn't like Hazel at all. I was prepared to stay up all night if I had to and start searching for her at daylight. But then at 11:00, who should come running through the catflap but Hazel! We cried with relief, smothered her in cuddles and she was a bit bewildered by the whole thing. Needless to say even though she wanted to go out again after that we shut the cat flap and she settled to sleep on the bed.
Thankfully, at about 6:45pm the neighbor came home and Orlon went to see her but Hazel must have dashed out unseen when the neighbor first opened her door because she was nowhere to be found. So we thought, OK, she'll be home soon. We waited. And waited. And waited. At 9:00pm Orlon went searching around the neighborhood with the flashlight but Hazel was nowhere to be seen. My biggest worry was that in Hazel's blind panic to get out, she'd run across the road and gotten bowled by a car. Thankfully next to our apartments there is a vacant lot that all of the neighborhood cats frequent when they want to go somewhere.
It got to about 10:45 and I started crying. This wasn't like Hazel at all. I was prepared to stay up all night if I had to and start searching for her at daylight. But then at 11:00, who should come running through the catflap but Hazel! We cried with relief, smothered her in cuddles and she was a bit bewildered by the whole thing. Needless to say even though she wanted to go out again after that we shut the cat flap and she settled to sleep on the bed.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Study Hell
It's final exam time this week and next week at University. Tomorrow 
I have my Reformation and Renaissance Europe exam, which as you may know has been the bane of my existence. I have to write three essays in three hours on three different topics, according to the questions we are given. I have studied for the past three days but only managed to study ONE topic intensively. I got to this morning, I had a terrible headache, I was tired. I had to say- STOP. I had hoped, given the points that I had been cross-credited from my unfinished teaching degree, that I wouldn't have to do any courses next semester. But I've had to be rational about it and if I fail this course I will just have to continue with the courses I was going to take next semester anyway and just use one of my additional credits to make up for this course. But I just had to stop. I have pretty much almost killed myself over this course because it has been so intensive. I've concentrated on it to the detriment of my other course, but at least our lecturer has given us the questions that are going to be in the exam so we can focus our study! If I feel better later I may go back and have a look at my notes but right now I am just fried. The human brain can only take so much!
I also have to protect my brain because of depression. I am not going to over-study and end up having a breakdown I can't come back from. I've done all I can do, I realise that it may not be enough, but God willing it will be okay. And no matter what happens, it's okay! It really is! I have options.
I have my Reformation and Renaissance Europe exam, which as you may know has been the bane of my existence. I have to write three essays in three hours on three different topics, according to the questions we are given. I have studied for the past three days but only managed to study ONE topic intensively. I got to this morning, I had a terrible headache, I was tired. I had to say- STOP. I had hoped, given the points that I had been cross-credited from my unfinished teaching degree, that I wouldn't have to do any courses next semester. But I've had to be rational about it and if I fail this course I will just have to continue with the courses I was going to take next semester anyway and just use one of my additional credits to make up for this course. But I just had to stop. I have pretty much almost killed myself over this course because it has been so intensive. I've concentrated on it to the detriment of my other course, but at least our lecturer has given us the questions that are going to be in the exam so we can focus our study! If I feel better later I may go back and have a look at my notes but right now I am just fried. The human brain can only take so much!I also have to protect my brain because of depression. I am not going to over-study and end up having a breakdown I can't come back from. I've done all I can do, I realise that it may not be enough, but God willing it will be okay. And no matter what happens, it's okay! It really is! I have options.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Time of Departure Arrived
Today was "the" day. The day that I woke up to find an empty owl box. Thankfully, most of my tears had been shed over the previous week, possibly in anticipation of this outcome which we all knew was inevitable. So there was mostly cheer instead of tears!
We have no way of knowing the next chapter of the owlets' stories. For someone like myself who had an interest in birds but never really knew a thing about barn owls, I got to see something out of the ordinary. I'm not going to talk about negatives in this post. I'm just not going to. This is about my own personal experiences with the Owl Box and what it meant for me. It's my catharsis, my time to celebrate four healthy new owlets out in the world. It's a bit like staring into the eyes of a newborn human child and wondering about the possibilities and knowing that there is a big wide world stretching out before them, all shiny and new and waiting to be experienced. That's going to happen for Molly's owlets. It's going to happen for Owlivia's owlets. New life, new additions to the species. And new terrors for the rodent population!
I know there has been negativity, I know there have been things flying around (no pun intended) which have darkened the experience somewhat (oh gosh I promised I wouldn't talk about negativity), BUT there have been some unintended, beautiful consequences of this experience. I have heard about people who have stopped using chemical pesticides once they learned that it can affect the food chain so dramatically. People have started to build owl boxes, or at least learn about the best designs for owl boxes. In my case I wanted to learn more about barn owls and their behavior and sought out Stacey O' Brien's book "Wesley The Owl" and then also her blog. I was privy to the experience of seeing Molly's owlets but I wanted to know more about owl behavior in general. It changed my mind about a few things. I have become more passionate about preserving native bird species here in New Zealand too. I want birders from all around the world to be able to come here and experience our various land parrots, our Kiwi, the amazing sound of our forests with its dawn chorus. I am proud of the Karori Sanctuary in Wellington for being successful at providing a predator-free environment right in the heart of the city, as well as their project to increase the Kakariki population.
But a lot of people found hope and comfort as well. And we formed a community that I found to be very unique. And very loving. And despite the politics and economics and somewhat of the later hoopla and conflict, the one thing I hope that people take with them from this experience....is LOVE. Those four owlets were loved by thousands, we wanted the absolute best outcome for their survival. They have left the owl box...but we can take that love with us and transfer it out into the wider world. I know, it sounds idealistic, but I have found that the MODs I met over the course of four months have been so supportive and loving and I want that for the people around them too. If we can cheer on four little entities without them knowing anything about it, imagine what we can do as a species for our fellow men and women?
So I take with me from this experience a whole heap of new friends, new perspectives on nature and the environment, and a drive to want to do more. Not just for the native species here, but for my fellow brothers and sisters out there.
We have no way of knowing the next chapter of the owlets' stories. For someone like myself who had an interest in birds but never really knew a thing about barn owls, I got to see something out of the ordinary. I'm not going to talk about negatives in this post. I'm just not going to. This is about my own personal experiences with the Owl Box and what it meant for me. It's my catharsis, my time to celebrate four healthy new owlets out in the world. It's a bit like staring into the eyes of a newborn human child and wondering about the possibilities and knowing that there is a big wide world stretching out before them, all shiny and new and waiting to be experienced. That's going to happen for Molly's owlets. It's going to happen for Owlivia's owlets. New life, new additions to the species. And new terrors for the rodent population!
I know there has been negativity, I know there have been things flying around (no pun intended) which have darkened the experience somewhat (oh gosh I promised I wouldn't talk about negativity), BUT there have been some unintended, beautiful consequences of this experience. I have heard about people who have stopped using chemical pesticides once they learned that it can affect the food chain so dramatically. People have started to build owl boxes, or at least learn about the best designs for owl boxes. In my case I wanted to learn more about barn owls and their behavior and sought out Stacey O' Brien's book "Wesley The Owl" and then also her blog. I was privy to the experience of seeing Molly's owlets but I wanted to know more about owl behavior in general. It changed my mind about a few things. I have become more passionate about preserving native bird species here in New Zealand too. I want birders from all around the world to be able to come here and experience our various land parrots, our Kiwi, the amazing sound of our forests with its dawn chorus. I am proud of the Karori Sanctuary in Wellington for being successful at providing a predator-free environment right in the heart of the city, as well as their project to increase the Kakariki population.
But a lot of people found hope and comfort as well. And we formed a community that I found to be very unique. And very loving. And despite the politics and economics and somewhat of the later hoopla and conflict, the one thing I hope that people take with them from this experience....is LOVE. Those four owlets were loved by thousands, we wanted the absolute best outcome for their survival. They have left the owl box...but we can take that love with us and transfer it out into the wider world. I know, it sounds idealistic, but I have found that the MODs I met over the course of four months have been so supportive and loving and I want that for the people around them too. If we can cheer on four little entities without them knowing anything about it, imagine what we can do as a species for our fellow men and women?
So I take with me from this experience a whole heap of new friends, new perspectives on nature and the environment, and a drive to want to do more. Not just for the native species here, but for my fellow brothers and sisters out there.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Riding the Bad Mood Waves
I try my darndest to keep things here upbeat and inspirational, but sometimes it can be exceptionally hard. This weekend has been a nightmare. Firstly, on the Friday, I pinched a nerve in my back. I'm still in pain. There's been a lot of negativity flying around. I'm stressed beyond belief because I have my father in law visiting tomorrow and then I have four days to study for my Reformation exam. It's the kind of thing that makes me want to just crawl under a suitable sized rock. Or, better yet, fly away to somewhere warm and sunny and tropical where I can eat fruit all day and snorkel with turtles and stingrays. I may live on an island myself but it's far from tropical!
Normally, to get rid of this stress I would get in a kickboxing session or go out for a walk to at least get some fresh air and sunshine but with my back it's been impossible. So I sort of had to surrender to it today. I had to rest up, so I took the opportunity to catch up on magazines I'd bought but hadn't read yet. As for the depression and frustration I was feeling, I have been having to ride the waves in regards to it and hope that tomorrow is a better day. I vented to some close friends who would understand what I was going through, and I'm writing this out here as well, though I have omitted much of my drama because it's dull and boring and I'm trying to keep as upbeat as possible!
The one thing that the pain in my back did was it told me that my life was out of balance. That I was under so much stress and strain that it was affecting my muscles. It also told me that I am very out of condition, a sure sign I need to start pounding the pavement again, even just to clear my head for the exams.
And maybe I'll eat fruit all day regardless of being unable to access a tropical island and snorkeling with turtles and stingrays.
Normally, to get rid of this stress I would get in a kickboxing session or go out for a walk to at least get some fresh air and sunshine but with my back it's been impossible. So I sort of had to surrender to it today. I had to rest up, so I took the opportunity to catch up on magazines I'd bought but hadn't read yet. As for the depression and frustration I was feeling, I have been having to ride the waves in regards to it and hope that tomorrow is a better day. I vented to some close friends who would understand what I was going through, and I'm writing this out here as well, though I have omitted much of my drama because it's dull and boring and I'm trying to keep as upbeat as possible!
The one thing that the pain in my back did was it told me that my life was out of balance. That I was under so much stress and strain that it was affecting my muscles. It also told me that I am very out of condition, a sure sign I need to start pounding the pavement again, even just to clear my head for the exams.
And maybe I'll eat fruit all day regardless of being unable to access a tropical island and snorkeling with turtles and stingrays.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
On A Wing And A Prayer
I have talked a lot recently about changes that are going on in my life and also around me. In a strange way I see my life being mirrored in the changes that have been happening in the Owl Box. Right now, sweet little Wesley (my undisputed favorite) is the last owl standing, as it were, in the Owl Box. After a delayed start, Austin left yesterday. I suppose he is now hanging out with his sisters Max and Patti in Carlos' big palm tree. I have watched them, from squirmy little pink things being kept warm under Molly (and in Wesley's case, I saw her hatch!), to fuzzy little independent beings, to fully grown owls learning to flap, fly and pounce on their prey.
If you read articles in magazines about change, it will almost inevitably say that change can be stressful, even those positive life changes that happen, like marriage and buying a house. In my case I have the double whammy this year of graduating and starting to look for a house. And, in fact, if I pass my courses this semester, I am able to leave university early, even though my grad ceremony will be the same time as it would have been had I had to do another semester of courses.
It's possible that I find everything overwhelming right now because I never thought I would achieve any of this. Depression has a way of making you think and feel that. I have spent many years after high school, just trying to exist, not really living life, thinking that because I had depression I didn't have a chance to live a good life and didn't dare dream for anything better than what I had. But once I found a good doctor, learned to take care of my symptoms through a healthy diet and regular exercise, and also learned how to harness cognitive behavioral therapy, things changed. And graduating shows that I have changed. Despite having regular bouts of depression, I've still managed a good GPA, I have an A- average (wish it were an A average, lol). So perhaps I am stressed because I am getting exactly what I thought I would never get.
I was beaten down all through school by bullies who told me that I was weird and a loser. And I believed it. When I was diagnosed with depression, the depression led me to believe it too. I know that these changes are scary, but they are a progression. I have worked towards these things and now they are coming to fruition. So it will soon be time to celebrate!
I guess what I really want to say, if I get to the heart of it, is that if you have a mental illness, it is possible to achieve a healthy, happy life. Having a mental illness doesn't make you defective. Look at bipolar disorder- if you read up about it, quite often you will learn that some of the most brilliant people in the world, the most creative minds and artistic spirits have bipolar disorder. It is possible to reap the whirlwind. It IS possible to live a good life, manage those ups and downs, manage your symptoms. Heck, I've had a bout of depression recently and still managed to complete my courses to a good standard! And most importantly, there is HOPE. And hope is the most precious jewel you can have.
If you read articles in magazines about change, it will almost inevitably say that change can be stressful, even those positive life changes that happen, like marriage and buying a house. In my case I have the double whammy this year of graduating and starting to look for a house. And, in fact, if I pass my courses this semester, I am able to leave university early, even though my grad ceremony will be the same time as it would have been had I had to do another semester of courses.
It's possible that I find everything overwhelming right now because I never thought I would achieve any of this. Depression has a way of making you think and feel that. I have spent many years after high school, just trying to exist, not really living life, thinking that because I had depression I didn't have a chance to live a good life and didn't dare dream for anything better than what I had. But once I found a good doctor, learned to take care of my symptoms through a healthy diet and regular exercise, and also learned how to harness cognitive behavioral therapy, things changed. And graduating shows that I have changed. Despite having regular bouts of depression, I've still managed a good GPA, I have an A- average (wish it were an A average, lol). So perhaps I am stressed because I am getting exactly what I thought I would never get.
I was beaten down all through school by bullies who told me that I was weird and a loser. And I believed it. When I was diagnosed with depression, the depression led me to believe it too. I know that these changes are scary, but they are a progression. I have worked towards these things and now they are coming to fruition. So it will soon be time to celebrate!
I guess what I really want to say, if I get to the heart of it, is that if you have a mental illness, it is possible to achieve a healthy, happy life. Having a mental illness doesn't make you defective. Look at bipolar disorder- if you read up about it, quite often you will learn that some of the most brilliant people in the world, the most creative minds and artistic spirits have bipolar disorder. It is possible to reap the whirlwind. It IS possible to live a good life, manage those ups and downs, manage your symptoms. Heck, I've had a bout of depression recently and still managed to complete my courses to a good standard! And most importantly, there is HOPE. And hope is the most precious jewel you can have.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
A Season of Changes
This past week has been my final week of classes for the first semester. I have a week of study leave, then exams on the 18th and 24th, and then two weeks' break. But what I found really interesting was when I talked to my friend S about the required points to graduate. She found out she only has to take one more course next semester in order to graduate. She has 370 points. I have 527. So I asked the course advisers at the University to do a points calculation for me and work out whether I have enough to graduate early. I'm still currently waiting to find out!
The prospect is both tremendously exciting and scary at the same time. There are so many changes happening in my life all at once and it can seem a bit overwhelming. My fiancee and I are hopefully going to be looking for our first property at the end of the year. It will be so nice to not be renting, no house inspections, we can hang things on the walls where we like, and can decorate it as we like! I can tell you I am thoroughly sick of white walls and cheap carpet that is the colour of Silly Putty. Although it does conceal cat fur very well, lol!
So I have also started looking at the job vacancies as well to get an idea of what is out there. Ideally I'd love to work at the Museum or the National Archives, but I may just volunteer for them while I look for work and see what happens. I don't have any grand dreams or goals for my career, I'm not looking to climb the ladder quickly and be rich. I just want to do a great job every day in which ever job I end up doing, and enjoy life outside of work. I don't want to work to pay for a lifestyle I can't afford, either. A lot of my neighbors are doing that. They lease expensive cars but if you look in their houses they have NO personal touches. They're literally working to pay for the cars and the jewelery and the fancy dinners out. I don't want that. I like to work.
All of these changes are quite overwhelming, but also wonderful. There have been so many years when mental illness has held me back from even daring to dream of something better and different in my life. My life is so much better now and I can see more great changes to come. I am starting to have a full, happy, healthy life that I never dreamed possible. And I am so glad for that.
The prospect is both tremendously exciting and scary at the same time. There are so many changes happening in my life all at once and it can seem a bit overwhelming. My fiancee and I are hopefully going to be looking for our first property at the end of the year. It will be so nice to not be renting, no house inspections, we can hang things on the walls where we like, and can decorate it as we like! I can tell you I am thoroughly sick of white walls and cheap carpet that is the colour of Silly Putty. Although it does conceal cat fur very well, lol!
So I have also started looking at the job vacancies as well to get an idea of what is out there. Ideally I'd love to work at the Museum or the National Archives, but I may just volunteer for them while I look for work and see what happens. I don't have any grand dreams or goals for my career, I'm not looking to climb the ladder quickly and be rich. I just want to do a great job every day in which ever job I end up doing, and enjoy life outside of work. I don't want to work to pay for a lifestyle I can't afford, either. A lot of my neighbors are doing that. They lease expensive cars but if you look in their houses they have NO personal touches. They're literally working to pay for the cars and the jewelery and the fancy dinners out. I don't want that. I like to work.
All of these changes are quite overwhelming, but also wonderful. There have been so many years when mental illness has held me back from even daring to dream of something better and different in my life. My life is so much better now and I can see more great changes to come. I am starting to have a full, happy, healthy life that I never dreamed possible. And I am so glad for that.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Changes...But Life Is Still Beautiful
This is a photograph I took a few weeks ago in the park near my house.
And as the leaves changed color and fell from the trees, and the weather suddenly flipped the switch to cold, dark and rainy, my mood got exponentially worse. I suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder and it has been exceptionally hard to get any sunlight. I need to find a light box. My brain needs the equivalent of a light box. There is so much going on at once that it has been overwhelming. This year alone there have been many changes and surprises that have come my way. Some have been happy, but they have been significantly life-changing that it's affected me profoundly. As any expert will tell you, even happy life changes can be stressful. In my case it was being contacted by my half-brother and also being contacted by a cousin I never even knew about and also finding out about my Maori heritage, finally discovering which tribe I belonged to. And to top it off, it turned out that when I was doing a course about archiving history last year at university, the local museum was doing an anthropological study into the bones of a burial site at Wairau Bar. Unbeknownst to me at the time, those bones and artifacts belonged to my ancestors. My cousin contacted me when the re-burial ceremony happened and said that they had done a sacro-cranial reconstruction by computer of one of our ancestors. I saw my own eyes staring back at me. It was a very emotional moment.
Adding to this is the fact that it is my senior year of my Bachelor of Arts degree. The past two years have been very certain- I had a certain amount of courses to do, I also had a job at the university. But this is it, this is the curtain call. A lot of my friends are doing a fourth Honors year because they are not ready to leave. But I really, truly am! I want to work for a while before I go back and do my Masters degree. And I may be able to graduate early by merit of extra points I accumulated due to my prior courses in Education as part of an unfinished Bachelor of Teaching and Learning.
So things have been overwhelming. I have been trying to see my way through a fog of depression but I'm proud of myself being able to compartmentalize the symptoms and function as best as I can. I had my final day for the semester before the exam period today, and I am going to be working hard to get back into a routine of healthy eating and exercise in order to get myself back into peak physical and mental condition. Life is beautiful, despite being overwhelming. It is beautiful because I have hope, something I didn't have many many years ago.
For the Love of an Owl
At the moment, I am going through a process of grieving. But I know I am not alone in this grief, it is a collective grief that is also tinged with great joy. I know that this sounds strange, but it is the most profoundly complex experience I have ever been through in my whole life.
Three months ago, I stumbled across a Ustream site of the owl box of Molly the Owl in San Marcos, California. This particular owl box was being recorded by the Royals: Carlos and Donna, with the technical help of grandson Austin. It was a drab, wet, autumn Saturday morning when I stumbled across it. And I was immediately transfixed. Here was this majestic mother barn owl, tending to (at that stage) three tiny little pink scrawny owlets, with two more eggs to go. I watched as she would settle herself over the owlets, and gently, with those mighty talons of hers, turn the eggs.
And just before Easter, I got to witness the hatching of the final owlet, Wesley. Having started to make friends in the owl box community, we were cheering for little Wesley to make her entrance into the world. It was the first hatching I have ever witnessed of any type of bird and I know that as Molly gently helped Wesley out of the egg a collective cheer went up. And we watched as the owlets all grew extraordinarily fast, exchanging their tiny pinkness for downy fluff, learning how to feed themselves and eventually making steps towards the outside world.
The past two weeks we have seen Max, Austin, Pattison and Wesley all fly out of the box and start to make the transition into their adult lives. And it has been a joyous occasion...but also very hard. We celebrate the fact that they have been able to survive and thrive. One of the other boxes lost two owlets in the space of 24 hours. We celebrate that they are all beautiful and different and are adding to the owl population in the area. But we will miss watching them.
One of the things that blew me away about this experience was the sheer strength of love that was felt for these birds. They will never know that millions of people were there, cheering them on and loving them unconditionally. And that love also spread to the MOD (Molly Obsessive Disorder) community- many people met, many people became friends and we all became an extraordinary worldwide family. I know the sociologists at my university would have a field day with this phenomenon! When people were ill, we rallied around them. People lost pets and family members during this time and we were there to comfort them because we understood and we looked out for them. There was a bit of conflict, but you get that in any community. But just that sheer force of love...if a few thousand of us can generate that for six owls...imagine what the whole world could do for one another.
It is hard saying goodbye to the owls but they have our hearts with them and we are thrilled that they have grown up healthy and happy and ready to soar on the clouds.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Simple Pleasure #3: Thrift Shops
When I was a little girl, we didn't have a lot of money. But my Mama did what she could to make the most of what we had. In fact, my mum had an organic garden (still does) and compost before it suddenly became fashionable and mainstream! But we used to visit a lot of second hand shops for our clothes. I remember that at St Paul's, our local church where I had my Brownies meetings, there was a second-hand-shop at the back of the church hall. I remember all of the clothing items were organized into cardboard boxes and labelled at the front. There were even things like corsets! I used to hate going there. As I got older, I began to appreciate that second hand shops can be a wealth of treasures. And now, thrift shopping is one of my favorite things to do.
Perhaps it's the "thrill of the hunt", or perhaps it's the feeling that it's a bit like when you are little and pretending to be hunting for treasure. And I have found some excellent treasures in my time. Most of the time, as you can imagine, I browse for second hand books. My favorite second hand book place is St Christopher's. It's neat because they have everything laid out on trestle tables, the prices are very affordable and you can get some great finds there, everything from really old editions of Penguin paperbacks, to magazines, to near-new releases. A few months ago I managed to pick up a recently released Jodi Picoult that was selling in the bookshops for $34.95. At St. Chris's I bought it for $12.
Other favorite "hunting grounds" include SaveMart, which is predominantly second-hand clothes and proceeds benefit the Child Cancer Foundation. A friend of mine managed to pick up an Armani suit in good nick in the designer section (where you do have to pay a bit more but it's still good value) for $100! When I was losing weight and transitioning through sizes I went there to pick up a whole heap of good quality, inexpensive shirts and jeans. I also love going to the Dog Watch and Cats Protection League charity stores. A lot of their goods are extremely inexpensive, but I always give them extra. If something is $3, I'll give them a $5 note because I know it's going towards a good cause. At the Dog Watch shop quite often they 'dog sit' an adorable West Highland Terrier called Oliver who loves having his belly rubbed.
I think that even if I were a millionaire I would still do the thrift-store thing. Partly because so many of the thrift stores actually benefit charities, and partly because that thrill of a cheap bargain is kind of ingrained in me! I think it's genetic. :)
Fighting the Black Dog
Today was an interesting day for me.
Yesterday I had a really wonderful, action-packed day and when I woke up this morning I felt dreadful. I felt the claws of depression tightening around me. I've had a bout of depression for about a month or so now, partly due to stress at university and work. Now that the stress is off I think the depression is starting to try and take hold. But what did I do? I acknowledged it. I said, 'okay, today's not so good mood-wise. I can ride this out'. And I did. That in itself was a triumph for me. There have been times with my condition where I haven't been able to do that, where it has suffocated me and I have felt helpless. It was much worse when I was younger and didn't have such a great doctor. Back then I was being medicated but there was no follow-up care. I was also made to feel that I was a second-class citizen. The situation seemed hopeless. When I was first diagnosed back in 1999, I lost all of my friends. Their parents wanted them to keep away from me, afraid they would 'catch' depression. And I was bitter for some time over that because for that past year I was having to keep everyone else happy. My best friend at the time was having issues because her parents wouldn't allow her to sit her exams (weird but whatever), another friend was having issues with her stepfather and had to live with us for a while. Another friend lost a grandmother, my best friend lost her grandfather, and the friend who lost the grandmother also ended up getting pregnant. And every five minutes it was, "help me, Rainbow, what do I do?" And when I needed help they were gone.
Things are so much better now. The more you talk to people the more you realise that depression affects so many people and that the stigma is slowly starting to wear off. Now people are more aware that teens suffer from depression too- that it's not just a case of teens being in a funk, that there are genuine cases of depression.
I think one of the most interesting things for me is that even though today I was feeling very depressed and trying to keep on top of the depression, I knew that I had people that loved me and that my life was still good. Being able to rationalise and compartmentalise the depression has meant that I can still lead a full and healthy life. I am looking forward to finishing this semester at the end of the week so I can start to get back into healthy eating and exercising again, which I have put off because of work and university commitments and stress, because I know that they both help me to ward off severe depression and make me feel so much better.
If you are out there and suffering depression right now- you are not alone. I have lived to tell the tale many times over. The best thing you can do is to TALK about it. Find a friendly ear and just let it all out. I also find that when I have really bad days, even if I don't feel like it, I will set myself small, achievable goals. Maybe I decide to get all the recycling done that day. Perhaps I do something I've been meaning to do on my 'to-do' list. If things are really severe, in the past I have made an effort to do very small things, things that sometimes end up not being done when you are sunk deep down in depression. Sometimes, that can just be making sure you get out of bed and have a shower. Because when you are deep down in depression, just doing those things are particularly difficult. Lately, when things have been bad with me I have had to have the goal of turning up to all of my classes in a day!
But tomorrow is another day, and I will take it as it comes. It is cliched,but true.
Yesterday I had a really wonderful, action-packed day and when I woke up this morning I felt dreadful. I felt the claws of depression tightening around me. I've had a bout of depression for about a month or so now, partly due to stress at university and work. Now that the stress is off I think the depression is starting to try and take hold. But what did I do? I acknowledged it. I said, 'okay, today's not so good mood-wise. I can ride this out'. And I did. That in itself was a triumph for me. There have been times with my condition where I haven't been able to do that, where it has suffocated me and I have felt helpless. It was much worse when I was younger and didn't have such a great doctor. Back then I was being medicated but there was no follow-up care. I was also made to feel that I was a second-class citizen. The situation seemed hopeless. When I was first diagnosed back in 1999, I lost all of my friends. Their parents wanted them to keep away from me, afraid they would 'catch' depression. And I was bitter for some time over that because for that past year I was having to keep everyone else happy. My best friend at the time was having issues because her parents wouldn't allow her to sit her exams (weird but whatever), another friend was having issues with her stepfather and had to live with us for a while. Another friend lost a grandmother, my best friend lost her grandfather, and the friend who lost the grandmother also ended up getting pregnant. And every five minutes it was, "help me, Rainbow, what do I do?" And when I needed help they were gone.
Things are so much better now. The more you talk to people the more you realise that depression affects so many people and that the stigma is slowly starting to wear off. Now people are more aware that teens suffer from depression too- that it's not just a case of teens being in a funk, that there are genuine cases of depression.
I think one of the most interesting things for me is that even though today I was feeling very depressed and trying to keep on top of the depression, I knew that I had people that loved me and that my life was still good. Being able to rationalise and compartmentalise the depression has meant that I can still lead a full and healthy life. I am looking forward to finishing this semester at the end of the week so I can start to get back into healthy eating and exercising again, which I have put off because of work and university commitments and stress, because I know that they both help me to ward off severe depression and make me feel so much better.
If you are out there and suffering depression right now- you are not alone. I have lived to tell the tale many times over. The best thing you can do is to TALK about it. Find a friendly ear and just let it all out. I also find that when I have really bad days, even if I don't feel like it, I will set myself small, achievable goals. Maybe I decide to get all the recycling done that day. Perhaps I do something I've been meaning to do on my 'to-do' list. If things are really severe, in the past I have made an effort to do very small things, things that sometimes end up not being done when you are sunk deep down in depression. Sometimes, that can just be making sure you get out of bed and have a shower. Because when you are deep down in depression, just doing those things are particularly difficult. Lately, when things have been bad with me I have had to have the goal of turning up to all of my classes in a day!
But tomorrow is another day, and I will take it as it comes. It is cliched,but true.
Friday, May 28, 2010
The Cat Who Walked Alone
This little sweetie is my Hazel. AKA Fuzzbutt, Butt-Butt, Maomao and Pusska!
This weekend she is being a wee bit of a diva. You see her 'daddy' is not home to play with her and shower her with attention so yours truly is having to be both mummy and daddy. She was fine yesterday but today she's been a nightmare. It's been wet and rainy for the past week. She will go out and then come back in and I'll dry her off with a towel (which she loves) but I think all of this rain is causing a little bit of cabin fever on her part. Today, every time I stepped into the kitchen she miaowed for food even though her bowl was full. I heated a mince pie for lunch, she started screaming at me, wanting some, and then waited patiently at my feet for a bite (which she never got). My parents came over for a coffee and after mum and dad paid her some more attention she finally settled down and went to sleep!
I complain, but I do love her. She came to us as a stray, skinny with worms. When we couldn't track down her owners we made the decision to keep her. We've never regretted that decision. She is so incredibly intelligent, affectionate and sweet. And she came to us as a complete package- she was de-sexed and toilet trained to boot! We do spoil her, but The Man is a cat lover like myself and for years he had been dying to have a cat of his own but couldn't while he was flatting. Now that we live together it's the perfect situation and she walked into our lives and changed them forever.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Laugh Every Day
"Laugh every day" is pretty much my motto. If I can't find anything funny in a day, I'll actively seek it out. Usually something like a tortoise with bad breath is enough to just ease the tension! And when I say it, I really mean it (about laughing every day, not about tortoises with bad breath, although I do mean that too). I've learned through the years that sometimes there's not a heck of a lot to laugh about in life and that you have to make the best of a bad situation. Sometimes, being able to change your circumstances can be out of your control but the one thing you can do is change your mood.
My mum is a prime example. She has been plagued by terrible health for many years and a few years ago she wound up in the emergency room with respiratory problems as a consequence of a really bad chest cold. She was on a nebulizer in the emergency room but was still able to laugh and joke with a particularly sassy and fun South African nurse. Maybe it's the British in her, the whole, "keep calm and carry on" attitude. In fact, when you read diaries of people who were affected by the Blitz, they really DID make the best of a bad situation. I've read diaries and letters where people have been in the underground stations, and it was a lot of people in a terribly frightening situation making the best of it, sharing food, cups of tea, stories, looking after each other and one another's children.
In my case, yesterday I even laughed at my appalling essay effort. It's taken me two weeks and a lot of sleepless nights to get anything together remotely resembling a 3,000 word argument. Add to that stress from the cutbacks on campus which are affecting me both as a student and as a staff member, as well as The Man being a staff member two, and the fact I have a minor bout of depression and it's been hell. But I had to laugh when describing my argument to The Man. I said;
"Well, first it starts with: "I'm going to talk about France and England and their Reformations. Paragraph about France! Something vaguely related to France! Insert quote from crusty old historian here! Well, Henry did something somewhat related...Yay! Henry! Back to France! Insert random fact here! More quotes!"
You get the picture. I had to laugh otherwise I would cry. We talk so much about happiness and how to get it, but resilience in times of great stress is just as important.
My mum is a prime example. She has been plagued by terrible health for many years and a few years ago she wound up in the emergency room with respiratory problems as a consequence of a really bad chest cold. She was on a nebulizer in the emergency room but was still able to laugh and joke with a particularly sassy and fun South African nurse. Maybe it's the British in her, the whole, "keep calm and carry on" attitude. In fact, when you read diaries of people who were affected by the Blitz, they really DID make the best of a bad situation. I've read diaries and letters where people have been in the underground stations, and it was a lot of people in a terribly frightening situation making the best of it, sharing food, cups of tea, stories, looking after each other and one another's children.
In my case, yesterday I even laughed at my appalling essay effort. It's taken me two weeks and a lot of sleepless nights to get anything together remotely resembling a 3,000 word argument. Add to that stress from the cutbacks on campus which are affecting me both as a student and as a staff member, as well as The Man being a staff member two, and the fact I have a minor bout of depression and it's been hell. But I had to laugh when describing my argument to The Man. I said;
"Well, first it starts with: "I'm going to talk about France and England and their Reformations. Paragraph about France! Something vaguely related to France! Insert quote from crusty old historian here! Well, Henry did something somewhat related...Yay! Henry! Back to France! Insert random fact here! More quotes!"
You get the picture. I had to laugh otherwise I would cry. We talk so much about happiness and how to get it, but resilience in times of great stress is just as important.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Waiting for the Weekend
Today was a bit of a turning point in terms of life at the moment. The past two weeks I have been basically a slave to this darn Reformation essay. It's been the most difficult experience I've had in the entirety of my academic career. On Monday I had made a strategic plan of how to cope with the current situation: finish collating my notes on Monday, print them out on Tuesday, do 1000 words on Tuesday, 1000 on Wednesday, 1000 and the bibliography on Thursday. If on any of those days I felt particularly ambitious and on a roll I might do a bit extra.So there I was this morning in the computer labs at university when I suddenly double checked the essay question. It said; "Why was religious change followed by civil war in France but not in England?" Oh crap. I had focused much of my research on England but not France. I felt my bowels turn to water and desperately wanted to cry. Instead I reigned it in and in a last ditch attempt I went to the University library, thinking, ok, knowing my luck there won't be any books to help me in the Three Day Loan section. But I trudged to the relevant section...and there in front of me were two books on Reformation France that I hadn't seen since the start of the course. Grabbing them I actually did a victory dance that was half Snoopy Dance, half back spasm. And since it was only about 10:30am at that stage, I photocopied the relevant parts I needed and then I put the books back in the 3 day loans in case somebody else was like me and desperately needed them.
The new research will help a great deal, considering one of the books is one which Dr J. uses on a regular basis and endorses. I think I will take tonight off though. I've spent most of the day sleeping because the past two days I have had crippling migraines and exhaustion. And then I got an email today asking me to confirm that I have all the prerequisites to graduate. I can't deal with that right now. Besides, I've decided to wait and graduate in April 2011 instead of at the end of the year. No biggie.
I am sorely looking forward to the end of all of this. I have a combination of nervous exhaustion, stress from my studies, stress from all of the changes happening around campus that have threatened my job, jobs of some of my friends and is threatening The Man's job as well. I cannot wait to just hand this God forsaken essay in. I think I'll sleep for much of the weekend, punctuated with dinner with my parents and coffee with a good friend of mine. The Man and I are thinking of getting away overnight somewhere nice, just to get out of the city and have a change of pace. We both need it.
Simple Pleasure #2: Date Scones
My mum is a baking whizz. Sadly, the baking gene that my mother and grandmother possess...has skipped a generation. The Man can bake, but doesn't bake as much as he'd like to. When I was a kid, I took my mum's baking ability for granted because instead of store-bought we always had baked. But let's face it- there's nothing like home-baked goodies.
My mum will regularly have lots of delicious baking when we come around to visit, bless her. Good for the soul but not so great for the waistline! The other day we popped around and she already had the oven going, making an apple crumble for dessert. Now, when I have read a magazine that has recipes in it, I always pass it over to her when I am finished. And she stumbled across a new recipe for date scones that she hadn't tried. She said to me and The Man, "feel like date scones?" and as quick as a wink she was in the kitchen, whipping up a batch and in fifteen minutes' time we were savouring the delights of date scones.
I LOVE date scones. The stickiness and sweetness of the dates means you don't have to add any extra sugar to the mixture. But you cannot have them cold, oh no. They must be either straight from the oven with a bit of butter or warmed up in the microwave. It's hard for me to describe for my American friends what scones are, and I won't put a recipe up because there are just so many on the internet. But they are delightful. I also love my mum's pumpkin scones, which are always made out of necessity when her pumpkin crop gets out of hand- at last count her crop had 21 pumpkins on it, so I'm guessing that very soon we'll have a batch of scones. Lovely!
My mum will regularly have lots of delicious baking when we come around to visit, bless her. Good for the soul but not so great for the waistline! The other day we popped around and she already had the oven going, making an apple crumble for dessert. Now, when I have read a magazine that has recipes in it, I always pass it over to her when I am finished. And she stumbled across a new recipe for date scones that she hadn't tried. She said to me and The Man, "feel like date scones?" and as quick as a wink she was in the kitchen, whipping up a batch and in fifteen minutes' time we were savouring the delights of date scones.
I LOVE date scones. The stickiness and sweetness of the dates means you don't have to add any extra sugar to the mixture. But you cannot have them cold, oh no. They must be either straight from the oven with a bit of butter or warmed up in the microwave. It's hard for me to describe for my American friends what scones are, and I won't put a recipe up because there are just so many on the internet. But they are delightful. I also love my mum's pumpkin scones, which are always made out of necessity when her pumpkin crop gets out of hand- at last count her crop had 21 pumpkins on it, so I'm guessing that very soon we'll have a batch of scones. Lovely!
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Close to (Academic) Freedom
It's Monday afternoon here, and thankfully I am making inroads on the research. I have one more book to look through and then I can begin writing tomorrow. I figure I'll do 1500 words tomorrow, 1500 on Wednesday and be able to hand it in on Thursday, effectively meaning that on Friday, my day off, I won't have to make a trip into uni to hand it in.
At least that's the plan...
It's not going to be a work of art. It's not even going to be a piece of academic brilliance. But I have to hand something in. I've had a constant headache all day and I put this down to my brain saying; "full! no more!" I've been stress eating chocolate chip cookies like it's nobody's business. I am sincerely looking forward to having my life back shortly. And at least next semester I get to spend all of my classes in the 20th century. What frustrates me is that I have lived and breathed Tudor history for 10 years but even I was stumped this time. And if I'm stumped....that's bad. I wonder if my fellow classmates are having as much difficulty as I am. It's been a hard road, that's for sure. I feel guilty because I've only been to two lectures in the past two weeks and the classes are nearly over. EEK.
It's been a challenge. But I guess that challenges are par for the course and I'm glad in a way that I have had a challenge and haven't just sailed through these years. I know, strange. But it will all be okay in the end. I'm close to freedom!
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Simple Pleasure #1: Reading
I don't think it's any great surprise to my friends that I am a huge bookworm. When I went through some of my worst bouts of depression I always knew I was coming out the other side when I could read a book in its entirety. I may, in fact, have a bit of a problem with books...I tend to hoard them, buying them up to save 'for later'. Well, that 'for later' pile has about 200 books! My 'to be read' pile on my bedside table has multiplied into two piles and is threatening to topple over. Reading is one of the simple pleasures in my life. After all, I've been reading since I was three years old so it has become as natural as breathing!
I read mysteries, I read non-fiction, memoirs, supernatural fiction, historical fiction, historical non-fiction, thrillers, contemporary fiction. The only thing I really don't tend to touch with a bargepole is Science Fiction or overly complex military history. I make it a rule that every single day, regardless of how busy and frazzled I am, I will read something for pleasure for at least 10 minutes. It's my 'me' time. Coming into winter here I am looking forward to my end of semester break when it's cold and rainy outside and I can snuggle up with some great books. There have been a few books that have made a real impact upon me, despite the zillions of books I have read in the past. Here are a few of my treasured favorites:
Hons and Rebels by Jessica Mitford: This is a memoir by Jessica Mitford, a woman born into a family of 5 sisters and one brother, closely related to Winston Churchill. Living a restricted, elite life, the sisters all found themselves rebelling to an extent- Diana would first marry the heir to the Guiness dynasty before then marrying the leader of the British Union of Fascists, Unity was obsessed with Hitler and attempted suicide upon Britain's declaration of war against Germany, Deborah would go on to marry the Duke of Devonshire, the position held many years before by Georgiana Cavendish, relative of Princess Diana, and Nancy would be the most famous of all, writing satirical books and historical tomes. Jessica was considered the most rebellious, escaping to volunteer in the Spanish Civil War with her cousin, they married and lived a life of relative poverty as Communists before spending their time in the United States. This is a hilarious and provoking memoir of a woman who just didn't want to fit the mold of peerage darling and who experienced moments in history most of us never got to.
Love in a Cold Climate by Nancy Mitford: Nancy Mitford was incredibly intelligent and witty, a Francophile to the end of her days who lived in an unfulfilling romance for most of her days. This story is sassy, witty and partially auto-biographical, with wonderfully fleshed-out characters and a real sparkle to it. In addition she has created one of the most fabulously camp characters of all time. There is a wonderful BBC adaptation which combines both Love in a Cold Climate and its companion piece, Pursuit of Love, starring Rosamund Pike,which I heartily recommend to anyone if this novel takes your interest.
The Catcher in the Rye by JD Salinger: It's probably considered utterly cliched to have this in a list of favourite books, but for me it really is. I remember reading it for the first time in the autumn of the year I turned fifteen. I was disheartened by the world, annoyed, sick of being at an all girls' school with its cliques and bitchiness. And Holden Caulfield with his 'phonies' and his sojourn through New York City made complete sense to me. Incredible to think that it was banned at one stage!
The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath: probably another cliche, but I read this in my senior year of college before I was diagnosed with depression. There was something of a dull thud of reality when I read this book, a knowing and a realisation...even though I didn't have the word 'depression' in my vernacular, I just knew that something wasn't right. Once, in class, the teacher made me read the part where Esther goes to her father's grave and talks about him not being there and I nearly cried on the spot...because I had been there. My father is not dead, but he may as well have been, given we are disconnected and I haven't seen him since I was six years old.
American Wife by Curtis Sittenfeld: this is a strangely beautiful and compelling book. It chronicles the life and times of a woman who is to become the First Lady. Based primarily on Laura Bush, it also has a little bit of Camelot woven into it. It is so well-written that after a while you tend to forget about the parallels unless they are things that stare you right in the face. I think it is a celebration of how difficult it can be to be the President's wife, regardless of who you are.
I read mysteries, I read non-fiction, memoirs, supernatural fiction, historical fiction, historical non-fiction, thrillers, contemporary fiction. The only thing I really don't tend to touch with a bargepole is Science Fiction or overly complex military history. I make it a rule that every single day, regardless of how busy and frazzled I am, I will read something for pleasure for at least 10 minutes. It's my 'me' time. Coming into winter here I am looking forward to my end of semester break when it's cold and rainy outside and I can snuggle up with some great books. There have been a few books that have made a real impact upon me, despite the zillions of books I have read in the past. Here are a few of my treasured favorites:
Hons and Rebels by Jessica Mitford: This is a memoir by Jessica Mitford, a woman born into a family of 5 sisters and one brother, closely related to Winston Churchill. Living a restricted, elite life, the sisters all found themselves rebelling to an extent- Diana would first marry the heir to the Guiness dynasty before then marrying the leader of the British Union of Fascists, Unity was obsessed with Hitler and attempted suicide upon Britain's declaration of war against Germany, Deborah would go on to marry the Duke of Devonshire, the position held many years before by Georgiana Cavendish, relative of Princess Diana, and Nancy would be the most famous of all, writing satirical books and historical tomes. Jessica was considered the most rebellious, escaping to volunteer in the Spanish Civil War with her cousin, they married and lived a life of relative poverty as Communists before spending their time in the United States. This is a hilarious and provoking memoir of a woman who just didn't want to fit the mold of peerage darling and who experienced moments in history most of us never got to.
Love in a Cold Climate by Nancy Mitford: Nancy Mitford was incredibly intelligent and witty, a Francophile to the end of her days who lived in an unfulfilling romance for most of her days. This story is sassy, witty and partially auto-biographical, with wonderfully fleshed-out characters and a real sparkle to it. In addition she has created one of the most fabulously camp characters of all time. There is a wonderful BBC adaptation which combines both Love in a Cold Climate and its companion piece, Pursuit of Love, starring Rosamund Pike,which I heartily recommend to anyone if this novel takes your interest.
The Catcher in the Rye by JD Salinger: It's probably considered utterly cliched to have this in a list of favourite books, but for me it really is. I remember reading it for the first time in the autumn of the year I turned fifteen. I was disheartened by the world, annoyed, sick of being at an all girls' school with its cliques and bitchiness. And Holden Caulfield with his 'phonies' and his sojourn through New York City made complete sense to me. Incredible to think that it was banned at one stage!
The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath: probably another cliche, but I read this in my senior year of college before I was diagnosed with depression. There was something of a dull thud of reality when I read this book, a knowing and a realisation...even though I didn't have the word 'depression' in my vernacular, I just knew that something wasn't right. Once, in class, the teacher made me read the part where Esther goes to her father's grave and talks about him not being there and I nearly cried on the spot...because I had been there. My father is not dead, but he may as well have been, given we are disconnected and I haven't seen him since I was six years old.
American Wife by Curtis Sittenfeld: this is a strangely beautiful and compelling book. It chronicles the life and times of a woman who is to become the First Lady. Based primarily on Laura Bush, it also has a little bit of Camelot woven into it. It is so well-written that after a while you tend to forget about the parallels unless they are things that stare you right in the face. I think it is a celebration of how difficult it can be to be the President's wife, regardless of who you are.
Friday, May 21, 2010
Dear Harry
Dear Henry VIII,
I SO don't like you right now. Perhaps I should take the advice of an online friend and write in my essay that you were a peckerhead. I've checked Urban Dictionary. It has eight definitions. I'm sure you qualify for at least one of the definitions.
I don't like you because, unlike many of the other Reformations of the time, yours doesn't entirely make sense to me. OK, so Cat couldn't give you a living son and you were chasing tail and threw a tanty when Clement VII couldn't give you the annulment you wanted. But then you do very, very strange things. You follow Erasmian humanism, and you hate Luther but some of your ideas are downright Lutheran. Some are Calvinist. Some defy any real description. Some say you allowed The Thoms (Wolsey, Cranmer, Cromwell) to guide you like religious Jonas Brothers, but then we now have G.W. Bernard saying, "oh no, Harry knew what he was doing!" and other history stalwarts like Christopher Haigh going "boo! hiss! can't be true!"
I despair, Harry. I am unable to use my favorite female historians to prove my points in this essay because apparently they are too romantic and regurgitate facts. But at least they are readable! Some of the books I have had to scour from 1963 clearly plagiarise from one another! At least the new breed acknowledge their sources instead of sitting back in their comfy tweet jackets with the leather patches like the cat that ate the cream.
So I don't like you right now. In fact, I'd rather write about Anne's influence on reform than about your reformation. But I can't. I have to write about why your Reformation succeeded while France's failed.
I don't think i'll like you again until after I hand in this essay.
Keep on Keeping On
It is a cold autumn Saturday morning and I should be huddled in bed, warm and cozy, maybe with a hot coffee, devouring The Girl Who Played with Fire. But alas, no. After I finish this entry I need to hunker down and do MORE research for one of my two final essays for my Semester 1 courses. I finished the research for my first essay on Thursday and mercifully had Friday off to relax and do laundry. I am absolutely mentally exhausted. I'm also battling a bit of depression, I suspect from the mental exhaustion. I attended only one lecture this previous week because I have been so bogged down with researching my essays! Normally, essays tend to be a doddle for me. Incredibly easy to research, easy to write. But this final essay for my Renaissance and Reformation Europe course is my Goliath. And I'm all out of rocks.
I have been living on vitamin water and convenience food lately. It's been terrible. I am looking forward to handing in my essays this week and then just collapsing on the Friday. After that, I have one more week of lectures, then a study break, then my two exams. I'm not worried about the exams at all. I tend to have a pretty zen attitude towards them: it is what it is. There is no point in ruminating about what you could have said or should have said while you're in there, what's done is done. No point hurriedly looking over your notes again an hour before the exam because by that stage what you know is all you are going to know. Most of my exams during my time at university have been of the essay variety. Normally it's something like 3-4 essay questions to answer in 3 hours. Only once was I spared, my advertising course had a final test in the last lecture of the course and all you had to do was answer multiple choice questions.
I have found this semester incredibly difficult. That's not to say I haven't enjoyed my classes- I have. I absolutely adore Dr J who is the lecturer for my R&R Europe course, and I respect him. I am frustrated that he doesn't so much like the newer books about the subject (there goes half my own personal library of books!), but I understand why. The lectures are fun and comprehensive...it's just this essay is REALLY doing my head in. But I will plough through, I have to. No point getting an extension just because I'm exhausted, no point getting marked down for handing it in late. I just have to do it.
And with that, I shall leave to a mountain of books....
I have been living on vitamin water and convenience food lately. It's been terrible. I am looking forward to handing in my essays this week and then just collapsing on the Friday. After that, I have one more week of lectures, then a study break, then my two exams. I'm not worried about the exams at all. I tend to have a pretty zen attitude towards them: it is what it is. There is no point in ruminating about what you could have said or should have said while you're in there, what's done is done. No point hurriedly looking over your notes again an hour before the exam because by that stage what you know is all you are going to know. Most of my exams during my time at university have been of the essay variety. Normally it's something like 3-4 essay questions to answer in 3 hours. Only once was I spared, my advertising course had a final test in the last lecture of the course and all you had to do was answer multiple choice questions.
I have found this semester incredibly difficult. That's not to say I haven't enjoyed my classes- I have. I absolutely adore Dr J who is the lecturer for my R&R Europe course, and I respect him. I am frustrated that he doesn't so much like the newer books about the subject (there goes half my own personal library of books!), but I understand why. The lectures are fun and comprehensive...it's just this essay is REALLY doing my head in. But I will plough through, I have to. No point getting an extension just because I'm exhausted, no point getting marked down for handing it in late. I just have to do it.
And with that, I shall leave to a mountain of books....
Thursday, May 20, 2010
So, this is a new beginning for me. I've mainly created this blog so that my new friends on Facebook can keep up with what's going on in my life. If anyone else is interested, well, that's a plus!What can I tell you about myself? Well, I'm nearing my thirties and I'm in my last year of a Bachelor of Arts in History with a minor in Media and Communication Studies. Previously I studied for a bit towards a Bachelor of Teaching and Learning but found that teaching wasn't entirely for me. I then sort of drifted towards retail and definitely found it wasn't for me.
I also have battled with bouts of depression since I was 18 years old. It's taken that long for me to understand my condition and to be able to handle it when I have bouts of depression. I know that some people feel a bit squeamish about depression and don't know how to handle people who live with it on a daily basis. I'm here to talk about it openly because I want people to know, especially if they are battling with depression also, that sometimes in order to see a rainbow you have to wait through the rain. Hence my blog title. I also know how it feels to feel guilty about having depression. But a diabetic never feels guilty about their condition, they can't help it that their pancreas doesn't want to co-operate! It's the same for depression- I shouldn't feel guilty because my serotonin levels in my brain are making things go a bit kooky for a while. It took me a long time, a lot of acceptance and a really good doctor to make me see that.
I am a bit of a loner and have difficulty making friends. I put this down to years of relentless bullying in school for being 'weird' and bright. Now I embrace my kooky side and have managed to make a few very good friends who understand me. I find social events very stressful because I have trouble relating to people. I also suffered from social phobia for a while which tends to re-emerge when I'm particularly under stress.
I may sound a bit odd. And maybe to Joe Average, I am. But I am also a person with likes and dislikes, and even when my depression is bad there is still always something to laugh about or find beautiful in life. I think that's the key to enjoying life: the small things. Maybe it's that your regular coffee place gives you extra stamps on your rewards card because they know you, or the giggle of a child. Maybe it's the cat sleeping on your feet and purring happily. There is always something to look forward to and smile about. I'm hoping to capture some of those things in this blog and share them with you!
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