My lastest socks are a Joy to knit. The yarn is real sock yarn from Online and We are not having any fights. Man, I knit a lot of socks. Hope they don’t bore you, but I’m really happy knitting socks, finding sock yarn, buying sock yarn and mostly succeeding with my knitting. That’s really why I love to knit socks. I wear them, I give them as gifts, and they are never a waste of time or money.
I’m going to try a sweater on that I knit years ago. I gained too much weight to wear it, and Now I think, it may fit again. Thanks weight watchers. I’ll let you know if it fits.
Oh yes I did run out on the freezing cold porch last night to try to catch the lovely full moon coming up over the Christmas tree for you. And boy it is freezing out there. And yes I’m crazy.
I don’t talk about it much here, but I want to share it joyfully. I have depression. I have survived serious bouts of depression and come out better for it. I wish people could be as supportive of this illness as they are of others. They call it the NO CASSEROLE illness because no one brings you dinner. Most people run from you.
Al actually dated a guy who told her he couldn’t stay with her because her mom had depression. I try to tell others when they are struggling that the best news about the disease is that it is curable. I’ve had amazing doctors and friends and family. I’ve also had family that say I’m crazy and judge me as so even after I’ve been well.
Why today to share this? Dunno. Just want to open the dialogue for one little post. I’m here to tell you, it can get better. If you are really struggling this holiday season, have Hope. Go get some help. Most people who seek help, find it. I was told that 1/3 of suicides occur with people who never tell anyone they are depressed. Your brain is an organ of your body. Just like your pancreas needs insulin when you are diabetic. Your brain needs medication, often, to rebalance.
I’m meeting with a very well meaning friend today for coffee back home. She did not thiink moving would be good for me. She warned me it would cause me another depressive episode. That scared the Beejezuz out of me. I told my doctor what she said. We talked about it. Now, my psychiatrist, there I said it…calls this move “your tincture of country”. I won’t say it to her, but I want to tell her never to say that to someone. It was like hearing I was going to die again.
Thank you for moving with me. Thank you for sharing your brave stories of your struggles no matter what they are. Thank you for making this a jovial place of whimsy and fun for me. Be well.