Archive for February, 2008


I was driving home yesterday afternoon, wondering why I was feeling blue, almost depressed, when I realized I hadn’t visited the psychcentral forums yet. Was that the reason? Was I lonely?

But I’m feeling It again this morning. Unssettled. Troubled. Blue.

Physically, my knees hurt. My ankles hurt. My teeth hurt. Yesterday I had an allergy attack, sneezing even after I took meds.

I’m dehydrated. It’s gray and rainy. Like yesterday. And cold.

The cat isn’t letting me write. He lays on my notebook; he brings me his ball. A gift? A game? I throw it; he retrieves it. Again. Again.

Yesterday I was supposed to see my sister. I cancelled. I couldn’t bear

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her negativity. I had nothing to give. I can barely throw the ball to the cat.

The other kitty jumps onto the table. She sniffs my coffee and winces.

Am I feeling guilty about my sister? Probably. I’ve cancelled on her before. It makes her crazy angry. That’s part of the reason I don’t want to see her.

I’d called. I’d felt I should. I genuinely wanted to know how she was. I cared.

She wanted more. “Let’s do lunch.” She was even willing to make the long drive. So we made plans.

Then she told me about seeing Mom. Blow by blow. The story was fraught with frustration and misery. That’s the special bond they share.

Once, my sister surprised Mom by bringing me on one of her visits. Mom could barely speak. She was too confused. She’s two people. One way with my sister, and with me she’s happy and optomistic. The one she’s closest to gets the complaining. The other gets to be the hero.

Day before yesterday, my husband lost a coworker and friend. He’s been greiving and I’ve been here for him. He came home and broke into tears in my arms. I have magical arms. So does he, for me.

It’s drizzly, but I love the rain. I adore the rain. I grew up in this arid land. I’m amazed when tv news thinks we need to be cheered up by reports of when the rain will be over. Where do these people come from? The rest of the time they complain about the drought.

I wiggle my pen and the kitty attacks. She doesn’t like to be pet unless you play with her first.

We went to the zoo on Sunday. Spontaneously. It’s a small zoo in a big park.

Do you know that blinking at a cat tells them you are safe?

I think I’ve bled off most of my blues. Thanks for listening. Was it a fair trade?

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