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One of the difficulties with me is that medications stop working after a bit. With the new treatment I had 3 or 4 days where the pain was a level 7 or sometimes a six. I call that a great day. I'm getting a day week at an eight which is manageable, it's when I climb toward that 9 that things get ugly. In the last month I've hit a ten 3 times. Once I didn't need to take the "lights out" medication because I laid down and was gone!

I told him about what the guy from Flickr said, to let my mind float down into my pencil. I told Dr. D that its frightening to let go. The guy who suggested I let my mind float down into the pencil, has art that looks like an X-ray of my head. One piece is full of movement from edge to edge. Images seemed to struggle with one another for space. I really liked that piece. I'm reminded of the scribble drawings by a Boho chick out in the desert. She calls her scribbles intuitive. They're amazing though.  ...continue reading "Therapy Review: Art. Lupus. Soccer."

I'm still struggling with the depression but I'm actively fighting it now.

I'm emotional. I'm raw and my fuse can be very short. It gets old apologizing for it, but I will because when the problem is me, it's me. I'm emotional, sometimes impulsive, opinionated and currently menopausal making me an even greater emotional mess. I feel strong sometimes and other times I feel as if I can't take another step. To ask it is cruel. I sometimes feel helpless and hopeless, defeated. I also feel a tiny little spark that wants to keep going. I don't have to guess as what my goal is while alive. I just need to stay alive long enough to meet that goal.

This depressive state and feelings of hopelessness are ones I have to actively throw off me. Yesterday I looked up several positive survivor stories where the person kept going despite feeling they had nothing but a tiny spark, if that. I need a little bit of flame for my spark. I need to throw off this depression because its so heavy.

One of the other things I'm doing is trying to stay out of my bedroom. My art studio is the other half of my room so I do need to be in there, but I don't want to live there like I did when I was almost totally bed bound. It was a hospital room. It's the room I was in when all I did was vomit, when all I did was cry and scream because my body would spasm and let go, spasm and let go. The light in there is different as well. I've got great windows in the living room and dining room. I love my windows. This spring the bedroom furniture will be adjusted, curtains changed out and the walls washed down. My feelings for the bedroom need to be washed away.

The furniture in the living room has been moved so  I can sit watching the fish at night with my candles and tea, wine or brandy. There's an area arranged so I can paint facing the windows, facing outside. I can see my plants and Mary Jane can sit in the window and threaten the birds that fly by.

...continue reading "Weapons for Depression. Dolphin Sexual Assault."

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