Mental Feng Shui

Long Time Gone....

loba — Fri, 16 Jun 2023 19:40:02 GMT

It's been a long time since I was here last. So many things have happened to me, with me, and with the people I love and care about.

I am no longer in WA, and am back in MI. I am going through a divorce, and have had my heart broken more than I care to say — it's hard, but it's for the best. I've had COVID twice, and am in my second bout of Long Haul (*makes a face*).

And I am trying to pick back up on my writing. So please bear with me as regroup. I hope to be here more often, and connect back with people who are still here.

Pax/Love,

Deb / Loba

"Ah, but what if it does?" big-deep-smile

loba — Thu, 06 Dec 2018 23:56:44 GMT

Hello all,

There's so much I want to write about, and I have to go get ready to teach. So I will do my best, and then scamper. :-)

Today I want to write about joy and growth, and happiness, and LOVE. I've been reading Hafiz (and re-reading Rumi) today, and have remembered some other old 'friends'... Peter McWilliams (poems) and Hugh Prather (prose).

See, when I was in late high school, I was over-the-moon in love with someone, (as many 17-year-olds often are). My parents were separating (after constantly fighting), and was a time of turmoil in the house of my blood-family. But when I was with him I was no longer trapped in that -- I could separate myself from all that pain, and see a way out, a future. In this new relationship, we shared a lot of love and joy. I grew, and I learned, I lived and I loved. And, as way to get to know each other better, he and I traded music, books, and authors. He introduced me to Led Zepplin, Credence Clearwater Revival, Jimi Hendrix and Stevie Ray Vaughn (thank you, Russ!), as well as giving me a reintroduction to Robert Heinlein and Richard Bach. *insert-big-grin-here* I'd remembered Jonathan Livingston Seagull from having seen it on my parents' bookshelves as a kid.... but I re-read it, and loved it all over again.

And, along with those discoveries, I ran into 2 authors who would become, for the next 5 years, good 'friends'... if authors can be our friends (and I think they can, especially if we fill our mental worlds with people from books when we have few real connections with solid humans in our everyday lives. Such was the case with me, as I lived mostly in my head, until this young man I dated came along).

Anyway, one of the authors of which I speak is Peter McWilliams, and while dating the young man of which I previously spoke, I chanced upon McWilliams' love poems.... and they spoke of exactly how *I* felt at that time: I was gone, completely GONE. Irrevocably smitten, in a way that only those 'in love' can fully be. :-) Head over heels, I idolized the guy I'd fallen for, and saw him in nearly every poem I read in McWilliams' books.

(And really, I think that's the way those poems are meant to be 'consumed'.... with the same dopamine-serotonin-norepinephrine rush from which the poem was originally conceived: a large shot of dizzily-happy, mixed with a twinge of fear/longing, with an almost-equally-large shot of crazy as a chaser. Definitely a mind-altering experience, and a wild ride, to be young, and 'in love.'

**Side Note: There is a BIG difference (imho) between Love, and "being in love" — and it's even more complex still, when both happen at once. Being 'in love' is just as I described it above: a wild ride of giddy (sometimes oceanic) emotions. But on its own, it's like a flower planted in shallow, sandy soil, and it can easily be uprooted or die.

To 'Love' someone is an action, as Love is a verb. It's a choice I make, when I find that someone is becoming a good friend. It's a decision on my part as to how I value that person and their presence in my life. It's about how I (will) regard that person, and how I (will) behave according to that person. To me, that means I value that person's happiness in equal measure with my own, and that I want as much for them to be happy, growing/learning, and healthy, as I do for myself. And while I don't agree with everything in the Christian Bible (and I am FAR from being a 'Paulist'), I *do* think Paul got the Corinthian verses on Love right.

When BOTH of these ('in love with' and 'to Love') happen, at exactly the same time? Well, it's rare for me, so I can only say what I know: there's a large smattering of emotions, but without so much giddy impermanence. There's more of an anchoring, more of a deep sense of 'good' and 'right' that come with the decision I've made (a commitment to myself, first,far before I openly/verbally commit to the other) to Love someone. Powerful stuff, especially since (the way I'm wired), I don't 'unLove' people.)

Back to the Prather and McWilliams books:

And while hunting for more McWilliams poetry, the second author 'friend' I chanced upon was Hugh Prather — who I'd also received as a late-teen birthday present, from my beloved Tunta Jean (my mother's younger sister, who taught me so much about the world, and life, and love, and learning to love myself). And it was Prather's book (from Tunta), "Notes To Myself" (and a few others),that got me through those so-difficult first years away at college. That was the time in which I unpacked the 'toolbox for life' that my parents had 'given' me, and learned that I'd need to develop my own particular set, as the ones they'd bestowed were feeble at best, and NOT at all what I really needed.

Those books, (along with some others, from folks like Robert Heinlein, Somtow Sucharitkul, L.E. Wilder, Anne McCaffrey, Ursula LeGuin, and Madeline L'Engle, as well as a few from Richard Bach) formed the basis for the 'literary' portion of that toolmaking kit, for the first years I was 'out on my own.' They, (along with some very tight friends, some really good therapy, and a commune where I found myself by running away from everything else), gave me the courage and strength to start building a strong, authentic (sharing, loving and giving) adult self.

And most of that had a start with the poems of McWilliams and the introspective prose of Prather. So, thank you to both authors, for starting the ball rolling, and thank you also to Tunta (always), for always seeing the real me — despite my always trying to hide in plain site, under the camouflage of whatever it was I was trying to bury myself.

The depth of Love (universal as well as romantic) and the gentle, probing introspection that I learned as I read those books (and loved/learned from those good friends, and learned how to live with others in community) taught me how to respect my heart (and its vast,all-embracing inner landscape), and to even let a few people in. The prose taught me a Love made of gentleness in examination — to look at others — and particularly myself -- honestly, softly, without being harshly pedantic. Instead of having my inner critic shred me at every turn (as I patterned after, and was taught to do as a child), I gradually learned to say to myself — in my mistakes, "Wow, that was NOT what I wanted to do.... definitely not the preferred method. So, let's back up and try again." (Instead of shame, I learned — slowly — error-correction and moving forward: progress, not perfection.)

Slowly, with what I was learning, I became able to treat myself with as much care as a child I was raising — with careful instruction, while removing the fear and shame of errors I'd already made. I taught myself to *not* run and hide in shame, but to observe, experiment, and try again — to learn and grow. And as I learned to be gentle with myself, I was also learning to be gentle and caring with the hearts (and feelings) of others, Growth. I still try hard to practice this, each day.

I'm middle-aged now... and I'm still far from perfect, but I can look back and see how much I've grown. Reading those McWilliams and Prather books again has really taken me back, and as convoluted as my journey has been, I can still 'see my tracks in the snow.' I have come so very far from where I once was.... And I recognize that, while I may not have known how to get there, I am indeed coming to the place I've always longed to be. It is a very good place. :-)

Where I am now, I have much growth, and lots of joy and light and love. New discoveries, new relationships, and so many new things to teach and give, as well as so many new things to learn — these are my perennial gifts, from having first planted the seed-words from those books (and friends/loves) so long ago. My gratitude is more than I can express; I've come a long way and the journey continues on.

I am honored to say that I start almost every day with a smile, and a sense of deep joy and excitement for what today (and tomorrow) may hold. Through all the twists and turns of my life, I've come to a place where I've built a work life that values what I have to give, and allows me to give a great deal back (which I so dearly need). I use my talents, my languages, my humor and my intellect, to make others' lives better. I give back, and I get 'paid' in warm fuzzies as well as money. *insert big grin here*

And my home life? I live in a place of warmth and light, laughter and books, music, and love. I could not have done better if I'd have 'cherry-picked' or planned it myself — but I didn't plan it, it just happened. :-) It landed in my lap, unexpected and almost unseen, after having something else fall through. It's so much better than I'd imagined, and in the short time I've been here, I've grown in some amazing ways. The person I live with is funny, smart, handsome, warm, kind, socially just and globally conscious, delightfully musical (we sing!), and an excellent companion. In short, he's wonderful, and is a highly-prized new addition to my life.

And the rest is mine to share another time. I've got to get ready to teach. :-)

To close, I'll give you the words to the poem that starts this entry, with my addendum (as to my life, from way back then up to now):

(To which I add: "Ah, and it definitely HAS.")

Pax/Love and reallybig hugs to all,

Deb/Loba

So many early-morning thinky-thoughts.... (or: what am I doing up before the light?)

loba — Tue, 09 Oct 2018 16:21:05 GMT

Let's face it,when my brain is full of words (even when those words are feeble in saying exactly what I want to say), I have to core dump sometimes. I will say things wrong, or inadequately, but sooner or later, I do have to express myself. And more often than not, that has been here. I'm working hard lately, to express myself verbally — to talk with people and to say just what I want to say. But, for so many years, I've not been able to make my voice express what I really want to say, so here I am again, taking pen in hand (or rather, fingers to electrons and keyboard), because it's in the written word that I best find my 'voice.' (I also find it, too, when I sing, but that's me expressing things with others' words.)

As for my (birthday) week.... wow. So much growth in such a short space of time... emotions stored on my body for years, like frozen energy, breaking loose like shards of an iceberg.... and I still feel them melting. Literally, as now my oldest scrub pants, once tight, are threatening to fall off, if I don't put the drawstring back in... and I'm not even trying. :-) I'm just eating and drinking 'good-for-the-Deb' foods that I enjoy (including lots of tea!! Huzzah!)... I get out and watch the colors of the sky change, and move my body as often as possible, and rest when needed (Inertia Girl, that's me). I am re-learning how to balancing my life between work and play, rest and movement, and complementing it all with a harmony of silence/solitude, teaching work, and cherished company. I'm asking for what I want, and need, in both the professional and private parts of my life, and seeing that I do have agency, when I can address them all with a clear voice. It takes a lot of effort (and when I get tired, I drop, and sleep like a rock), but the sense of agency felt is so very worth it.

I'm still parsing it out and unpacking the pieces, even as I marvel at the journey of the past 7 days. The Kavanaugh hearings (and conversations I've had surrounding them) brought so many things to light — some of which are creepy, abrasive, poisoned-tongued things that'd not seen the light of day for many years. The last time I sat down and actually *wrote* about them, it took over a week of writing and crying and venting — and yes, screaming and ranting — to get to the raw core of it all. And the product was a Reader Rebuttal in the MSU State News regarding Take Back The Night. It was a piece (of me) that I was scared as Hell to have them print, but was essential, if I was to continue in my studies at that place. I needed to cleanse it of some demons so that I could re-create a space for myself there, in which I could grow and learn, without fear. It was not complete, then, but it was enough of a start to carve out a place for myself.

And when is work like that *ever* finally done? Just after I take my last breath in this body, I think. There's always another layer to the onion, and sometimes that is so damn overwhelming. It's then that I so wish for a small break, out of space and time, where I can just exist, and *be me* — without guarding my all-too-soft underbelly of seemingly-perpetual woundedness. I want to grow vast, plated, hardened scales over that part of me — but I've made a commitment to myself to live with an open heart, so if I were to choose to be that guarded, I would have to forfeit that promise to myself. And that I will not do.

It's a fine line to walk, and at times it's all too much, and too intense, and I hit overwhelm, and have to go spend time with trees and water, not speaking in words, nor thinking in word-thoughts. Decompression time is essential if I am to continue this part of my journey — especially when the public issues of the day dredge up old (still-infected?) sore spots in my psyche. I can see now that, when I tried to run from these issues (or to sweep them under a rug... to 'just get over it' as some would miscounsel me), that it only kept the hurt inside, and the 'infection' spread, despite what the surface might show. I know better than that. But when the issue is one of my largest (and I've been busy peeling off layers of other onions), I have to remember not to expect 'Rome in a day' from myself. I can only do so much, at any given time. And, as this kind of emotional work takes enormous effort, and time and to do it, I needed to find, and consciously (unconsciously?) set aside a safe, warm, caring space in which to do it.

And it's funny, because once again, as I look back on my life, I see that, while I don't always get what I want, I *do* always seem to get exactly what I need. (And some days, not getting what I think I want, is definitely a protection, rather than a hindrance *wry-grin*). At the end of July, my planned housing with a good friend fell through, and I was so very disappointed. It felt like the agency of being able to shape my life had once again slipped through my fingers like water.

But, I see now, looking back on other times in my life, that things sometimes fall apart, so that better things can fall together. The place I live now, and the person with which I live, fell randomly into my life, completely without warning. But, had I consciously designed the situation myself, I could not have done better. The place where I am now in my life (the place, and the companion) are marvelous.... and continue to inspire and amaze me, with comfort, and communication, and simple joys that, as Tunta would've put it, 'make my heart sing happy songs.' *smiles* And the funny thing is, it's not a giddy mania (although there's plenty of laughter), it's more a sense of deep joy, and feeling safe, and that 'this is right.'

So, yes, lots of deep thinky-thoughts today... a lot to chew on, mentally. But I started this just after 6:30am, and it's now just after 9am. I must get back up and have breakfast, and start my day. I want to go and greet my companion before they start their workday, and go play with the dog (and yes, there IS a dog.... a wonderful puppus to go with the rest of the wonderful here...) *grin*

So, I'll end (as I am so likely to do) with some lyrics that sum this bit up... thank you Paul Simon, for introducing me to them:

"When something goes wrong,
I'm the first to admit it
I'm the first to admit it
But the last one to know
When something goes right
Well it's likely to lose me
It's apt to confuse me
It's such an unusual sight
I can't get used to something so right
Something so right."

— Paul Simon, Something So Right

Happy Tuesday, everyone.

Pax/Love and big hugs to all.

Deb/Loba

Friday, almost 5pm

loba — Fri, 28 Sep 2018 23:58:48 GMT

Hello all,

It's been a full week: full of goings-on, and and growth (as well as a few tears), but mostly full of joy. I am profoundly grateful for all of it. Am heading home soon, to make potato salad (from my Gram's recipe), and to relax and have a Weekend.

More later. For now, a big hug, and "Bardzo dobro wekeendu" to each of you!

Hello pain, my old friend....

loba — Tue, 25 Sep 2018 03:09:36 GMT

So, I hurt my back this weekend....

Yes, it was a bonehead move (leaving my cane at home, and then trying to run for a bus), and yes, I'm paying for it. That said, I really enjoyed the movie (Ant Man and The Wasp), and am glad I went, even though I missed meeting up with some people I'd planned to see, if they were there. It all worked out in the end, though, and I also found out that the 512 bus makes very good time back from Seattle on the weekends. Good knowledge to have. :-)

A rather pleasing weekend overall, even if I'm ouching about it now. Good company, filled with joy and laughter and smiles... good (groaning) puns, fun games, and fresh raspberries. Oh, and fresh croissants, and burnt-sugar flan, and a visit with friends that included hanging out and take-out Dim Sum. All: shared. *insert grin here* Good things are so much better when I share them with others, especially friends and loved ones. Being alone is important, as I treasure my solitude and contemplation time. But there's just something about sharing good things, with people I care for.... :-)

Now? I'm at my desk at work, in my still-too-cold classroom, wondering if I should go make myself another cuppa, just so my fingers won't stay cold. (Will someone please explain *why*the air-conditioning is on today, when the summer is *gone*...?? The strangeness of a corporate office building, I think. )

And a week from Wednesday I turn 50. Um.... yeah. Wow. I will soon be 8 years older than my Tunta (Tante) Jean will ever be. She died in 1997, at the tender age of 42, from advanced lung cancer. I still miss her, and think of her often — I wish she was still here, to talk with, to hash out things, and compare reminiscences. For the past few years, my mother has made a point of repeating to me that she'd often thought, when I was growing up, that I was really Tunta's daughter (and not hers) because Jean and I were alike in so many ways — doing what we wanted, experimenting and adventuring out, instead of 'playing it safe.' When I was a teen, Tunta was one of few adults to whom I would seriously listen, and whose advice I would seriously consider. (Me, stubborn? No, it's just your imagination. Really.) :-D

As I become quiet, sitting here in this empty room, I can feel a few items (of fear? disquiet? uncertainty? unease?) sitting just at the edge of my brain/consciousness. They are niggling at me, wanting to come out and be named and described, but still elusive... evasive, like something only seen out of the corner of my eye. Does my advancing age really disturb me that much, that I am willing to babble about so many other things, rather than turn and look it in the eye? Does it? Does it scare me that I am only 12 years away from the age when my grandmother died? Yes, resoundingly.

I have so many thing I want to do, so many places to see, and so many more things to learn. The more I teach, the more I find I am so woefully ignorant of the the things I want (and ought) to know. Socrates says that is wisdom, but I find that it doesn't make me feel any wiser, it only makes me feel ignorant, and inadequate. But I also know that that is not Socrates' perfectionism biting me in the glutes, it is my own.

More later. Must teach now.

Pax/Love,

Deb/Loba

What a Long, Strange Trip It's Been....

loba — Wed, 29 Aug 2018 06:13:32 GMT

*waves* Yes, it's really me. I am back, at least for a while. :-)

So, I've been writing a bit over at Four Dot Ellipsis (if you want the url, let me know), but other than that, not much. When I started this journal, just over 18 years ago, I never thought I would be where I am now, doing what I am doing now, and living the life I am living now. I do know my self a bit better, and the grey in my hair has gotten more dense (and the color a bit more sparse), but I am still me.

What am I doing now? Well, I teach at 'Better Living Through Chemistry.edu" — so to speak. And I really, REALLY LOVE what I do. It's hard some days, and I definitely bit off more than I could chew at the very beginning, but I think things are going pretty well, and I like where my life is going. Not sure who I'm quoting in saying this, but I have the high privilege and honor of working long, hard hours at something I truly love. :-) I am proud of the work I do, and of how well my students are doing (regulars as well as those I tutor). I take pride in the fact that, of the students that have completed the program, including internship and national test, each one has passed the national test, and each has also been offered a position during internship. As my Dad would say, "Not too shabby." :-)

I do miss my Dad a lot lately.... especially when I want to compare notes on how to teach adults (as, just after his Masters degree, Dad taught classes at a local community college). Sometimes I so want to call him and speak Polish, and hear him respond back — only to remember that he's gone. That's when the ache is deep, and I find myself hashing over regrets of not going and taking care of him sooner. But he hid the worst parts of his illness well, and even my sister (who spent a good deal of time helping him out) did not foresee the ending until just before I arrived (and he died 2 days later). It's been just over 3 years, and I still cry.

We grieve, and we live (as best we can). And life moves on.

Jim and I are still on good terms, but we won't ever be married. And, although I still have others that I love, I am re-examining what (and who) I want in life. And poly or not, no matter how many loves I have (or have had), I still want a partner with whom I can move through life, side by side. And although what I have with Jim is a wonderful, loving friendship, (deep and vast, built out of the tumult and joys of nearly 27 years), he does not want that partnership (once again, he's backed away). It grieves me, but I won't keep banging my head on it. The flip-flopping has to end, because I truly want something different. And if nothing changes, nothing changes.

And it's funny, how I can fling myself up in the air, and out into space (via transcontinental flight), and land in another country, and adventure out on my own, without fear.... knowing that I trust myself, and I trust the Universe, and I know I will be okay. But.... ask me to start again, on a new relationship?? I'll be over here, hiding under my desk.

If I'm honest, I have to say that it scares the shit out of me — to feel so vulnerable and risk rejection again, after becoming so close with someone. Taking that leap into the unknown (especially investing time and effort, and my heart into something and someone unknown). How many times can I have others break my heart before there is nothing left? It's clear I need to learn how to choose wisely (and stop making the same mistake). I know where the path with Jim leads from looking back and seeing what the experience has been (repeated patterns). And the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting different results each time. I know where that path leads; I've walked it many times before (and therein lies madness).

And....where does this takes me ....who knows? For now, I'm ok with where I am, in a good, safe space, in a house of warmth and trees and light, .....looking forward to the future, and growing from there.

I'd wanted to move north (out of the smog south of town) for a long while now. And, this coming weekend, I am moving into a place that feels warm, accepting and growth-promoting. It is small and cozy, but already partly-filled with books and music. And the air there is *clear* and fresh, also not too far from a lake (*grin*) and less than a block to a small park. :-) But the best part: it is not only north of town, and near green spaces (with lots of trees in the backyard!!), but is only 1 bus ride away from work. ONE!!! Such luxury; I will be spoiled. :-)

And yes, I wish I did still drive (grocery shopping is so much easier than doing it on a bus), but with the dizzy spells from 2016 and 2017 (and a few this year), I have promised several people that I won't pursue a driver license again until after 6 months with NO dizzy spells. Patience is hard. (One step at a time, Deb, one step at a time.)

The place I'm moving into is small, but it already *feels* like home, and my new housemate (from whom I'll be renting) is interesting and smart, and warm, as well. I really like this person (kindred spirit? perhaps, although strange to see so soon...), and I'm looking forward to building a friendship with them. It's another facet of this move that feels warm, and true, and *right*.

Additionally, I am topographically closer to Jasper, who has said they will be available to take me places (like groceries, etc). I'll still keep my bus pass current, and use that as main transportation. And.... the person I'm moving in with has a dog!!! :-) Since Ian went back to MI this past Christmas to live with his 'father,' I find that I have been very 'pet-lonely'.... and I miss having my feline companion to hang out with. (Without constant kitty-pets, scritches, and nuzzles, I think I've become touch-starved).

On other fronts, I am learning how to be a better teacher, and still practicing on how to be a better human being (chop wood, carry water). I am doing my best to steer clear of Twitter and Facebook, so that the political crazies don't overwhelm my brain. And I need to be reading more, and maybe doing more hikes, as my arthritis only gets worse if/when I let my brain play the tyrant, and forget to 'move' my meat suit.

More later, I need to finish grading homework, and head home. But this account's paid for the next 12 months, so I will be back, and writing. I know I need to do this... for such a long time, writing was my lifeline. And I think it's time to come back.

Pax/Love & **hugs** to all,

Deb/Loba

AMENDED 9/24/18:

So, yes.... I am on my own again (trodding familiar but oft lonely ground). But, if I continue to speak my intentions to the Universe, and move in that direction, if a mate is what I truly want (as I say it is), I*will* find someone. Hopefully they are a kind, smart, reasonably (?) sane person, with a sexy brain and a good sense of humor. Oh, and lovely eyes. ;-D I find that when I ask my heart what it *really wants* I get the answer of 'someone who will walk by my side as an equal, loving and caring; growing with me, not enabling, but supportive, and worthy of my trust, as I will show that I am worthy of theirs.'

Herein lies the rub:

I've told a new friend that I trust his process, and that things will happen for him when he is ready. But cura te ipsum, Deb? Can I turn around and look myself in the eye, and trust my *own* process..... especially in the stark vulnerability of this? As scary as it is, I need to do exactly that. And perhaps staring that fear the face — looking at it carefully, parsing it out, and naming it for what it *really* is — is a good first step. (Chop wood, carry water, Deb.) So, here I am, back at Step 1, re-learning how to trust my *own* process, and to 'be here now' (and like Rilke said, to love the questions). And acceptance is the answer to all my problems today.... *wrygrin*

But, I am happy where I am. It is a place of light and joy, and it feels safe. And that is such a treasure, in and of itself. I think that this will be a place of large amounts of growth for me. *happysigh*

Once more, with feeling....

loba — Wed, 22 Nov 2017 07:12:49 GMT

Okay, so 2 years and a bit more have gone by, and I am posting here once again. I have been wanting to start writing again, but it may not be regular here. I also have a blog over at veritasfeminae.wordpress.com , so you may want to check over there.

Let's see.... not long after I posted the previous post ( in early June 2015), I flew back home to be with my Dad for one day, before he died (16 June 2015). It's been over 2 years, and I'm still not sure I'm ready to go back into it, and talk about it. Suffice it to say that I miss him, and I miss speaking Polish with him. And since I lost my old smartphone in the Pacific, I no longer have the voicemail recordings of him speaking Polish to me. I regret that more than words can say.

More later. For now, I am teaching, and although I only have a few students, and it is much harder than I thought it would be, I really do love it.

Until then, be strong, be safe, and pax/love and **hugs** to all.

Back again, to make a new start?

loba — Wed, 03 Jun 2015 07:55:32 GMT

Hello LiveJournal, it's been quite a long time.

I'm dictating this from my smartphone, but will also be writing again sometime soon.

I've had a lot going on in the past year and a half to two years, and I find that I really need to be writing again. I say 'need,' because I need to write, I'm finding, like I need to breathe. Or like I need to see stars, and trees, and living, blooming things.

I need to write, in the same way that I need to pet my cat and feel his soft fur, hear his purrs, and feel the love that emanates from me to him, and from him to me.

A quick update on me: I lost my job in November 2013, and decided not long after to go back to school. I did very well in the pharmacy technician program, and graduated this past December. But due to a very low level of finances, losing my car, and some battles with depression, anxiety, and PTSD, I've been having a really hard time. I feel like a hermit who hardly leaves her house, and who misses her friends and loved ones dearly, but most days lacks the courage to venture much further than the front door.

My counselor agreed with me, that I need to be writing again, so I'm going to put some things here, & I will probably reopen VeritasFeminae, for things I don't feel entirely safe putting here. If anyone wants access to that journal, please message me here, or send an email to loba at livejournal dot com. And, depending on who you are, and if I know you, I may grant access.

A short blurb about today: I observed some behaviors in myself that I want to change, & I think I really saw them clearly for the first time. I watched how interactions with my blood family cause my emotions to bounce around like a rabid ping pong ball. I watch how hard I tried to avoid the emotional pain, and I felt how much there was of it, like a broad, deep pool.

It reminded me so much of when I was younger, as a child, when I had no outlet for it, and had no idea what to do with it. Overcome in a tidal wave of negative emotion, I simply thought it was all me, and that I was bad. I also observed, from a distance, how my parents still interact with each other much the same way they did when I was a child.

Today, I felt myself sliding back into that old role of being an emotional sponge, absorbing of all the negative emotions they threw and spat at each other. I didn't know where I stopped and where they began, so I felt all the negative emotions as though they were being done to me. As a child, that's incorrect, but understandable. Even so, as an adult, I can see clearly now that I am NOT them, and no matter how hardwired my lizard brain is in the emotional sponge role, it is not me. they are not me. And their pain is not who I am.

I have more writing that I've done on this issue, but that's for another place, and another time. Now is the time for sleep, and whatever dreams may come. As for writing, I will be out and about tomorrow, and will try to do more then.

I hope all of you are doing well, & I send hugs out to you. Ian says hello, and meow and purr to all of you. :-)

Good night, all.

Dearest Ian kitty,

loba — Sat, 15 Feb 2014 11:25:01 GMT

It is 3:18 a.m.. I am trying to go to sleep. And while I understand that you are nocturnal, your current meowing -- no matter how pathetic -- is doing little to endear you to me. Please understand that when the sun comes up, & I wake up, I will be happy to use my opposeable thumbs and let you out.
THEN.
But NOT at 3:18 a.m.
For now, PLEASE go to sleep.
Love, Mama

State Of The Deb: Long time gone. (Depression & comeback)

loba — Sat, 06 Aug 2011 01:20:58 GMT

Hello. *waves* It's been quite a while since I was here, and to be honest, I gave up reading LJ when my life got crazy from work, (just after my last post, in October 2010). This is my first time back in quite a while, so please forgive me while I catch up.

New job soon lost, Mom getting cancer, and me having an ovarian cyst, coupled with 7 months of unemployment -- and I'v only just recently crawled out from under the large rock I call home. Yes, I ran and hid.

October saw me and the rest of my phone cohorts moving downstairs to a new office, and a new company (as our call center dissolved & merged with another). With the move, I had a new employer, and a lot of different tasks (not all for which I'd gotten enough training, IMHO). My stress levels were high trying to do my best there, but went through the roof, when in mid-October, my Mom (in Michigan) was diagnosed with breast cancer. I actually had to go get meds to help me sleep, I was that worried (especially since I was 'on probation' for my new job, and absences during the first 6 months would cause me to 'not be kept.').

November saw my Mom undergoing 2 biopsies and a lumpectomy. Needless to say, my stress levels stayed high, as I could not visit her, and knew that my sister (who has 2 young boys) was the sole support person for Mom (as she was when my Dad was homeless). My sister is a trooper beyond measure, and I am forever grateful to her for the love and care she gave to Mom during that hard time. I tried to call a lot, and to 'be there' for her when I could, but there's not much a person can do from almost 2300 miles away. (Guilt was the hat I wore every day.) And of course, I called my Mom a LOT (as well as Jim, who is still in MI taking care of his elderly father).

In December, my Mom started radical chemotherapy, and lost her hair. All of it. I know that that was very difficult for her, as was the chemo, because she's been used to having a healthy, athletic body her whole life, and to being beautiful (she is still the most beautiful woman I know). It was harder on her, I think, to lose the ability to clean her house, and to go through the embarassment of having to wear a scarf or wig, and to not be able to go in public (due to her very weak immune system). She's not the semi-hermit that I am -- she needs people and action, and I think it was a difficult transition for her.

In December, Mom also developed a large clot in her blood vessel where they put her 'port', so she was on lots of blood thinners. And because she is stubborn (gee, no one who knows me would have guessed this, eh? /wrygrin), Mom continued to shovel and snow-blow her driveway. This was worrying for me and my sister, because with Mom, the slightest cut could have killed her, or she could have passed out in the snow, and no one would have seen her for a long time -- Mom lives alone, with a cat.)

December saw me having increasingly frequent stabbing pains in my R lower abdomen and back. They turned out to be from a 4cm x 4cm cyst on my remaining ovary (I think it misses the other one, and was trying to grow it back /wrygrin). I was out sick for about a week around the time that the cyst ruptured, due to being on painkillers and having to rest. Needless to say, that Christmas was not an easy one, but I am glad I had insurance and the cyst resolved quickly. And I was grateful that Mom was fighting hard, and being cared for lovingly.

On January 4, 2011, I was told that I "would not be kept" at the new call center, and I lost my job. And I'll admit it, after that, I stepped away from nearly everyone and went into a tailspin of my own. I'd hit my breaking point, and could not cope well, so I hid. For the first 3 weeks, I was not even sure I'd get unemployment, and lived on Food Stamps and my little bit of savings, and did not know what to do with the shame and fear. I stopped reading LJ, didn't get on Facebook much, and only Tweeted infrequently. I watched a LOT of TV, and did little else for the next half-year (again, trying to escape from the shame and fear). I applied for a lot of jobs, but didn't even get rejections back from about 80% of them, so that didn't help much.

I knew I was in the middle of a big depressive bout when I mentioned to a friend that I'd not listened to *any* music for several months. He replied that music was like breathing, and it really made me think: Wow.... me, not listening to music? That spoke volumes about where I was at, mentally and psychically.

Alot of the "crawling out from under the rock" changes have happened in the past month. I've done a great deal of cleaning and re-arranging, and can now sit in my room, at my desk, on the computer (I'm a clutterer by nature, but am working to change those habits). I realized that I'd fallen back into that old selfish, self-centered depression that sees only me and my own life. With the help of friends and loved ones, I got out, and reminded myself, once again, that everyone has problems, and that I could work through mine, too.

It was not that I didn't know how to nurture and care for myself, it was the fact that I'd lost the will to do it. I felt worthless and helpless, and allowed those feelings to convince me that I *was* worthless and helpless. Depression strips the joy from everything -- I even had computer games that I've been given or bought, that were unopened and unused. And normally, I *love* to game. But I couldn't even bring myself to install the games (which is rather easy). And I'd given up one of my best loves -- I had not read a book in 5 months.

I've pretty much crawled out, and am doing things to make sure I don't 'fall back in the hole.' I know I need to cloister myself sometimes, but I think that more than a week or two is probably not good for me. And not having joy in my life kills me bit by bit -- I need to continue to do things that nourish my soul. And I have taken steps to do this.

I am starting a new job soon, and have started gaming again (Diablo II for now). I continue to watch my show (Bones) but I am trying to curtail (and be choosy about) my TV watching as I need what brain cells I have left. :-) And I have worked my way through 9 books in the past 2 months, between reading them and/or listening to them via Audible (when my eyes bother me, whether from my CPAP mask or allergies, it helps to continue a book by listening to it. And I can pick up where I left off, when my eyes feel better).

Also, my Mom came through chemo like a champ -- except for the fact that she's told her MD that, if the cancer comes back she will refuse chemo (because it was so hard for her). And she's scheduled soon to have a prophylactic double mastectomy, and will probably come through that well, as well. And I hope to have $ saved soon after starting my job, to be able to at least go visit for a weekend. One thing at a time, though. :-)

That's about it for me. I will try to come back here and post when I can. Please feel free to friend me on Google+ or over on Facebook, or on Twitter (leave me a msg here if you need the contact info, or send me a text msg). And I will do my best to back-read, and catch up on people's lives. I'm sorry that I haven't been in touch -- I really could not do it at the time, but can now, and I will work to keep those lines open.

Thanks for reading, and **hugs** to all.

- Deb / Loba

Toooooosday

loba — Wed, 20 Oct 2010 01:43:32 GMT

Office is mostly packed. Tomorrow: Answering the ringy-dingy-thingy for 1/2 day, then I (finally!) get to find out about the benefits I am s'posed to have. (Um. right. BOHICA.). Am not amused with how things have transpired thus far, but we shall see how they go.

On the upside, I found a good home for another of my electronic toys-that-needs-a-home. :-) Hey -- I could get pretty good at this "releaseing" thing... just you watch. :-D

Protein and Emergen-C consumed. Going home nao. Kittysnuggles then flop.

Oh, yeah: Tomorrow: Workout, then Birthday Crepes! Yaay!

Writer's Block: MAKE IT STOP!

loba — Tue, 19 Oct 2010 23:57:58 GMT

Um... Walking On The Sun.... from my playlist earlier this morning.

ZOMG... Book Bears! :-)

loba — Wed, 29 Sep 2010 19:18:24 GMT

.... Book Bears!!

Blame yuki_onna,, this is all her fault (well, hers and her pain-induced haze).

Poor dear, I hope she is well rather soon!!

"I'm not dead yet..."

loba — Wed, 29 Sep 2010 18:58:23 GMT

This is a short post to let people know that 1) yes, I did recently re-watch "The Holy Grail" and 2) I'm still here. ("I think I'll go for a walk...")

I realized earlier this morning that, while I do still Tweet some (same name there as here -- lucky me for getting in early), when I tweaked my LJ so that it did not double-post my Tweets over at FaceBook, it also stopped posting my Tweets here. Which means a LOT of 'radio silence' for me here at LJ, apparently.

Which may well be for the good -- I think that most of my wrassles with various demons lately are not fit for human consumption. :-P Suffice it to say that I'm still dealing with some things that I thought were done, as well as some heretofore unknown issues with my (4 years past) cancer surgery. My body has begun changing in uncomfortable (and annoying) ways, and I have been worried and scared, because I know what the result is, and I DO NOT want to deal with that. EVER. But I may not have much of a choice -- what I have happening is not very reversable.

So, I've had a LOT (recently) of dealing with the anger and depression, and the nasties that haunt me along with them -- as well as learning how to deal differently with my migraines (which got worse with the stress). Add to that the wacky job stuff (all of us having to re-apply for our jobs, and start over as new employees of a different organization, with zero senority and 6 months of probation) - and it's been a bumpy ride. And yes, I've been in close contact with my psych, and am planning to talk with a counselor soon (regularly) about it all, but it's not been pretty. And I haven't felt comfortable enough to put it here -- locked or not.

Long and short? I have not left LJ, and will try to come back and post a bit more, since I know now that not even my Tweets are making it here. But you can also find me at Twitter, or Facebook, if you want -- as well. And if you want to email me, you can write directly to my phone, at sapphireloba at gmail dot com.

More anon -- must go have some lunch.

**Hugs and good wishes to all**

HELL YEAH STROWLERCON

loba — Wed, 29 Sep 2010 17:11:02 GMT

Originally posted by shadesong at HELL YEAH STROWLERCON

StrowlerCon is October 8-10 in Woburn, MA, and we are going to rock like you would not believe.

Join us in the Grand Ballrooms of the Woburn Holiday Inn, just north of Boston, on Columbus Day weekend — October 8th-10th, 2010 — for three nights of entertainment (live music, circus arts, burlesque) and two days of workshops, panels and other activities, including a special 10/10/10 celebration, and a Maker Showcase featuring inventions and material creations as well as artwork by local creators and attendees.

Click there to buy tickets - $45 for the weekend, $25 per day for day passes (so if you're going for more than one day, it pays to just buy the $45 weekend pass). To reserve your hotel room, e-mail lodging@strowlers.com.

Can't go but want to support StrowlerCon and sponsor a strowler? We have supporting memberships, and they come with goodies.

Okay. You have the technical details. But 'song, you say, what did you say about ROCKING?

Here you GO.

Friday night: Concerts by SJ Tucker, Kellianna, and Gypsy Nomads, and the MONSTERS' BALL featuring SJ Tucker, Catherynne Valente, Lee Harrington, and other special guests!

Saturday:
* Day One of a two-day intensive writing workshop with Catherynne Valente (catvalente)!
* Sacred Kink and Rope Sex workshops with the amazing Lee Harrington!
* Burlesque workshop!
* Guitar workshop with Ben Deschamps!
* Costuming workshop with cluegirl, the Wandering Legion, and Lady Cyanide!
* Poi-spinning tutorial with K Wiley (omnisti)!
* A reading by catvalente!
* Panels about Making Your Own Way; Strowlers in Myth, Legend, and Folklore; disaster stories from street theater; and Meet the Performers sessions with Tricky Pixie and Sharon Knight!

Saturday night: Concerts by Tricky Pixie, Sharon Knight, Heather Dale, and Kellianna - and a naughty nightime show, Vagabond Vaudeville: Mountebanks, Shewers of Tricks, and Wanderers of Fortune, with tawdry circus performers, bodacious burlesque by Rogue Burlesque, a rope show by Lee Harrington, MCing by the infamous lightcastle, and so much more! (This will probably be your only chance to see me tied up on stage, I am just saying. So if that is relevant to your interests, hey!)

Sunday:
* VIP brunch to celebrate 10:10:10!
* Day Two of the writing workshop!
* Maskmaking workshop with ioianthe of The Uncommon Facade!
* Busking for Beginners with cluegirl!
* Juggling for Beginners with slipjig!
* Circus Arts for Beginners with Frank Mohr!
* Improv workshop with Frank Mohr!
* Vocal workshop with Sharon Knight!
* Origami workshop with Andrew Anselmo!
* Gentlemen's Duelling with the Wandering Legion!
* "Zen for Clowns" - Beginning Contact Juggling and Object Manipulation with Russ Sharek!
* A reading by me!
* An hour with s00j and catvalente!
* Accessory-making workshop with cluegirl, Lady Cyanide, and potentially others!
* Panels on cross-media collaboration (with s00j, catvalente, kythryne, and me) and Music as Magic; Meet the Performers sessions with s00j, catvalente, Heather Dale, and the Gypsy Nomads!

Sunday night: Concerts by Heather Dale, Sharon Knight, and the Gypsy Nomads, and the StrowlerCon Challenge - a no-holds-barred open mic where you might actually get to see me dance.

All of this AND a maker showcase and art show and vendors including Kythryne of Wyrding Studios, rivenwanderer of purpleshiny, Dark Siren Designs, Parrish Relics, Red Fork Empire, Behind the Mask, and many more, with demos going all the time!

So buy those tickets (only $45 for all of this!), reserve that hotel room, and come have truly epic amounts of fun at StrowlerCon. This is going to rock. your. socks.

Loba's Tweets

loba — Wed, 14 Jul 2010 15:03:07 GMT

16:54 Moloch Street Underground Station is the first stop on the journey to Hell. fallenlondon.com/c/153183 #