I have been too sad lately. Too sad to stay awake and too sad to live. It comes and goes. When it doesn’t go, I get worried and even more despondent.
It’s something to do with my genes and my early childhood and my recurring depressions which make my brain more susceptible to triggers and don’t forget my PTSD.
I miss my children and wonder what the point is. I feel exhausted and worthless. I imagine the horror of whoever would find my dead body and decide, “Never mind. I can go on.”
So when I read about a designer who turned teddy bears into art, I was inspired to try this myself. It would be better than “add Abilify.” It would be like occupational therapy.
It would give my hands something to do late at night when I decide to start picking the little scabs on my legs that I get from picking the little scabs on my legs. This leg thing has now gone on intermittently for several years. (See here.) It is comforting in the moment but disappointing afterward.
I got a used teddy bear and bought some embroidery thread. I can’t remember how to embroider but that’s okay.
I’ve been working on my poor little bear, who is not only willing to undergo my pain for me, he is glad to be of service. I can tell when I look in his eyes. He is offering Himself up like Jesus Christ, suffering on my behalf with endless compassion.
I am mostly maiming him with unneeded surgery. I’m throwing in some decorative touches like sequins but mostly I’m fixing his wounds, that is to say my wounds. There is a lot of work to do.
My heart is so broken but the poor little bear understands. He might never be art but who among us really is, right? He feels my love, even as I torture him.
Maybe that’s how it’s supposed to work.
I’m so sorry. I’m glad you’ve found the bear though.
I’m glad for the bear therapy.
I have been playing Pokemon Go. There is something therapeutic in letting myself doing something utterly stupid and pointless for once. I am usually such trying to be such a good girl in my head, making someone happy who isn’t even there, getting points for my permanent record. Guess what? My permanent record is going to have a couple thousand hours of chasing imaginary monsters on it for no reason whatsoever.
You are such a unique, funny, smart voice in the world. You are really unlike anyone I have ever met, and I think the world needs you. I know being unique is a lonely path. And of course I know you have been shredded apart by Max’s death. I appreciate your staying alive. I hope you stay that way.
I hope you find some comfort and come out the other side, sister.
xoxo
Things that will help:
Thinking about Paige.
Thinking about the giant pencil.
Thinking about that woman who worked at that store in Santa Monica who touched me, rolled her eyes back in her head, and told me she knew where my lost glasses were–all in the service of trying to get me to buy some ugly Great Wall of China bullshit bomber jacket. (She was wrong about my glasses).
Thinking about all that hideous denim.
Thinking about lipstick.
Thinking about how awesome it is that you don’t live in fucking New York.
I hope you make it out of the abyss soon. I’m sorry. It’s the worst. You have made it out before, though. Remember that.
You will either hate “American Honey” or love it. I loved it. Now I’m scared you’ll hate and think less of me for loving it.
Jenny – Thank you, Jenny. xo
Janet – Thanks Janet, you are such a good support system! xo
Suebob – Pokemon Go, et tu?? I like to picture you wandering around like a zombie. You are an original person yourself, don’t forget. I appreciate your encouragement. xo
Marky – And 5 Brown, of course. Nothing could spoil my admiration of you. xo
We’re here for you sister, just keep writing…
Yes, please keep writing, keep posting.
Maybe you don’t realize your influence.
You’ve kept me afloat, for one.
xox
Dear Sister,
I come to read you whenever I can because you give me hope and remind me that I’m not alone. I hope you feel better today.
I don’t comment a lot, but I just wanted to let you know that I always look forward to your blog posts, and your words mean a lot to me!
I stumbled upon your blog years ago, expecting to find someone as spiteful and angry as I felt at the time. Instead I found this funny, honest, strong and sensitive person who has such an amazing perspective on life! You always manage to articulate perfectly what I am unable to!
Anyways, not sure where I wanted to go with this comment, just wanted to let you know that here, all the way in Norway, is someone who is just glad that you are you!
Thank you for telling us that. If there is anything you think I can do to help please let me know.
Munchausen by proxy voodoo bear. It’s a thing. <3
DJ – Okay, will do. xo
Bevitron – Ditto! xo
betty – You are not alone, thank you for sticking with me. xo
Nina – Thank you Nina, this is everything. xo
Beannie – Aw, just responding makes me feel better. xo
DAna – Is it in the DSM IV?
Please stay. You matter to us. We are here for you and with you. Picking that spot on my scalp with you, in solidarity, from Munich.
Sister Wolf, my mother died last week. I’m sad, but not as sad as you are. She was 92, had a mostly good life. I’m sorry your mother wasn’t so good. I’m sorry Max died. Please keep writing and sewing that therapeutic bear. As Suebob says, you are a unique, smart, funny voice, and you’re keeping me afloat now. Take care.
thrift shop lawyer – Could we wear mittens???
Mary Liz – Oh I’m so sorry about your mother. Wishing you strength and peace, with all atheist blessings xoxo