On with the saga...

Well, I carry on bravely with my depression on a beautiful sunny day that was deceptively not as warm as it looked. I celebrated the warmest part of the day by taking a long nap on the sofa where I have been taking all my afternoon naps lately. I've decided that this makes it look less official than going to lie down in bed for them. It makes me look less lazy, I think. 

I had all the windows open and a draft blew through the apartment making it so chilly in here that I had to put on my jeans jacket. The temperatures weren't exactly tropical despite all the sunshine. It was 18C outside and that isn't exactly very warm. No doubt there were lots of people on the cafe terraces downtown basking in the light of the sun, but to me it still wasn't warm enough. I need for it to be just a little bit hotter before I will bask. 

Yes, I am still depressed. I can tell by the lack of enthusiasm with which I do everything and the number of cups of coffee that I need to do them. I am also filled with cynicism and I know that is a way to overcome my own deep dark thoughts. If you don't want to be harsh on yourself, be harsh on the world around you. The world around you can take a licking, there are enough people and institutions that can handle it. Tall trees do catch a lot of wind and rightly so. 

It's a little tough to get through the day and I am glad when I near the end of it. I find t hard to fill the hours and don't do anything that is worth mentioning. The most sensible thing I do is take the dog for walks. I am not that interested in the usual things that keep me occupied and care less about them also. They don't seem very important right now. A lot of things seem pretty senseless and not worth getting excited about and I wonder why I ever did. 

I do seem to like the evenings and enjoy the fact that the sun sets and the darkness comes and covers the land. I feel that all is at peace then and can't wait to put on my pajamas and bathrobe so I can feel safe. It's ridiculous, of course, because those things shouldn't matter at all, but somehow they make a difference. And more than anything I want to be warm because I feel cold so quickly. I could wear layers of clothes and still not be warm enough. 

I've still got a bit of a headache, but it is not so bad that I keep taking paracetamol for it. I don't know if it is a good idea to keep taking it. I think it may not be good for my stomach so I try to do without. I've got a dull ache in the right side of my head that sometimes feels like a stabbing pain depending on what I do with my head. I'm sure that one of these days it will disappear. I've almost gotten used to it. It's been five days now. 

I think I've gone on long enough now and will knit an end to this epistle.

I hope you'll all have a good evening.

Ciao,

Irene

Conversations in the night...

I had gone to bed early and had been asleep a few hours when the dog woke me by very gently and quietly barking by the side of my bed. It was almost as if he was afraid to wake me up but had to do it anyway. It turned out that he had to go out back to do a piddle and when he was done, he wanted a milk bone as a reward. He got one of those because he had not had one that day. 

I got back in bed, but the dog decided to be cozy and got on the bed also and sat on my head. I moved him off, but he stuck as close as he could, making it hard to breathe. He wanted to be cuddled, but I was not exactly in the mood for that. I tried unsuccessfully to go back to sleep with that animal breathing down my neck and his fur tickling my face. I finally gave in and got up and now he's sound asleep in the armchair, as innocent as the puppy he still is in many ways.

I wonder if he wanted me to get up because he's so used to it. I'm supposed to guard over him while he soundly sleeps in the armchair and the cat sleeps on the sofa. It is sort of a ritual that we have developed. I may have taught him bad habits. The whole time that I'm up, he does nothing but sleep deeply and snore and I'm his guardian angel. I suppose he likes being in the living room better than the bedroom. There are better places to sleep. 

This was a short course in how to analyze your dog's behavior. He's now lying down by my feet and I can't move for fear of stepping on him. I'll have to wait for him to move again before I make any other radical plans tonight.

Of course, I don't have any radical plans for tonight. I never do because I'm an obedient citizen and I never do anything wild and out of the ordinary. Besides, so much is legal here that I would really have to do something crazy to be really radical. I'll most likely have a very quiet night sitting here having only adventures in my head and daydreaming about what I would do if I were completely at liberty and obviously, I don't hang out with the right people. You do have to move in the right crowd, one that is equally minded. 

Sometimes cynicism seems to get the upper hand and I don't know if I have any ideals left.  I think I may have a shortage of them, but it's not good for a person to only be a cynic.  You can't dismiss any kind of political and social movement because it tries to unify an idea and I'm not talking about populism, which is a very bad idea and a bandwagon I won't get on. 

I hoped that there would be a bigger rise from the ranks of the female population in all levels of politics and industry and that this influence would change the course of decision making, but I don't see it happening.  That's still an ideology I want to believe in, but I'm not necessarily happy with the quality of women that are rising to the top. They only want to seem to prove the point that they are as tough as men are. Truly incompetent men, at least politically here in the Netherlands. I'm tired of men in gray suits with solid ties and their token female equivalents. 

Enough of that seriousness. It's too heavy a subject so late in the night.  It needs more frivolity than that. 

I'm awfully short of frivolity, though, so I better stop writing. I'm getting a bit tired so it may be necessary to go to bed. I always say that and never do until the wee hours. I always feel compelled to stay up longer and get into more trouble. Tomorrow is Saturday, so it doesn't matter what time I get up. 

Have a good night.

Ciao,

Nora

A fresh pot of coffee...

What is there better in life early in the morning than a newly made pot of coffee? Okay, some fresh croissants would be very nice too, but I don't have those handy. The coffee will have to do. I'm very eagerly drinking my first cup and enjoying it very much. It will wake me up in no time. I'm quite perky on my own, though, and hardly need waking up. I stepped out of the right side of the bed.

Of course, I'm up too early because I didn't go to bed until late because of a barking dog, but I'm willing to face the day. I'm full of good intentions. As long as the coffee does its work, I'm ready for anything. I'm ready to fold the dry laundry, do the dishes, change my bed and take out the trash, which are all jobs that I need to do today. 

Of course, I don't have to do them right now this minute. They can wait awhile. I just wanted to show you my eagerness. I wish today was a day of major happenings, because I'm more than ready for them. I'm in the mood for something exciting to happen. Something unexpected. It would be nice if today I won the lottery, for example, but an unexpected visit would be nice too. I will have to prepare myself for anything at all and pretend it's going to happen. I have festive bones in my body, even if I have to celebrate all by myself.

When I'm in a mood like this, the impossible seem possible and the world seems within hand's reach. Anything wonderful it has to offer seems to be very close by as if I can touch it. As if I make part of it. I guess in my own insignificant way I do. I do feel part of a greater whole. I suppose I have my rose colored glasses on this morning. I will try to keep them on for a while and not become jaded yet. Because today is Sunday, I will not be cynical. It will be a skeptic free day and I will try to believe in everything that's positive. I will be like Pollyanna and in total denial.

I will start the day with putting on a very cheerful outfit. I've already figured out what it's going to be. Your day can't go wrong if you're dressed right, even if it's only for your own sake and to walk the dog in. Even if it's only to hang leisurely around the apartment in. It's your whole attitude that counts and it's reflected in your clothes and your squeaky clean hair and the air of good perfume you carry everywhere you go. You have to be your own party and good luck charm. A totem to your own womanhood. If I were an aboriginal, I would deck out in my finest beads and hand paint my body to ward off the evil spirits.

It's starting to be daylight and the sky is overcast. There will be no sunshine today like there was yesterday, but there will be no rain. We've left wintertime truly behind us now and are in the throes of early springtime. The temperatures are much better and there's no need to dress as warmly. Other clothes can be pulled out of the closet and my winter coat can be put away for good. I haven't worn it for awhile. 

I have to get the show on the road and walk the dog. He is impatient. He has spring fever. I think I do too. 

Have a good day.

Ciao,

Nora

Frustratingly shallow...

I've been up for a while and have been drinking my delicious cups of coffee. It took me no effort at all this morning to make a pot. I was wide awake when I stepped out of bed and more than ready to start the day. I even had to make cigarettes, having depleted the supply I had last night. I did it with the greatest of ease, as if it was no problem so early in the morning. That goes to show you that I was free of grumpiness and that I immediately was in a good mood. I am an early riser and I get out on the right side of the bed. Luckily, my bed is positioned in the right place.

I have visited blogs and sent emails and now I should be more than ready to write a blog post. I just need for my imagination to wake up. I think that will take another cup of coffee. I wish I could visit the place in my head where my imagination lives and see what size it is and what form it has and if I have a lot of it. Maybe then I could learn to depend on it. I think a lot of times it is hidden by my need to want to be logical and to want to make sense. It would be better if I could give it free reign and set it loose.

Circumstances also dictate how poetic I can get. If I feel that I have to be in charge and be the responsible adult, I'm not as likely to let down my boundaries and give myself over to my more lyrical side. The one who spends more time with her head in the clouds and her feet lightly lifted off the ground. Like a balloon drifting around just without reach. I have been known to spend large periods in this state of mind and be very prolific. I was attached to the earth by a gossamer thread.

Nowadays, I try to stay more grounded than that and to have both my feet firmly planted on the ground. This does hinder the free flow of my more poetic ideas. It's hard to be lyrical if you don't spend time in the higher spheres. If your firmly attached to all that's worldly. I don't allow myself many flights of imagination. Nor do I see as much overwhelming beauty in the world around me. I've become a bit more cynical than that and I have to find a new form to express that side of me. I do want to see the beauty with unbiased eyes, but I also see the fragility of it and the fact that you can't grasp and hold it.

The love that you felt for things only becomes a memory when you can't go back and rediscover them. You can only continue to love them if you keep living with them and I have not been that fortunate. I have had a lot of experiences, though, and I have an enormous source of material to dip into. The fact that I don't do this, speaks for itself. I consider them a closed book and I rarely open it. I want to keep them locked up in the chambers of my mind and not wax lyrical about them lest I get too sentimental and teary eyed. I must not start to think that one stage in my life was more beautiful than the other.

I prefer to think that the one I'm in will turn out to be the best one and that this is the one that I will in the end be lyrical and poetic about, but in a sober minded way. The way a Dutch person can be lyrical in a stark and barren way that does not show too much emotion lest he makes a fool of himself. There's to be not too much passion. We are Calvinistic people, after all, even if some of us are Catholic and more Burgundian.

I still don't know where my imagination lives. I think it lives in a state of mind, though, when you're disconnected from too much reality and when you are in a loftier and more ethereal space where the air is thinner, high up a mountain somewhere, very solitary. Maybe that's why I seek so much time alone. To get in touch with that place, where the foothills and the shrub oaks live and where the sun shines relentlessly in the bright blue sky. It's only an illusion. The rain comes down outside and it's another gray day and that's reality and I don't mind the rain. That's been established.

I live my life accordingly and adapt myself to the circumstances, but I can make the best of them. Kindness abounds, after all, and that wasn't always the case.

Ciao,

Nora

Regardless...

In spite of my intention not to be awake during the night, I find myself up and about in the early hours of the morning anyway. I had a good enough sleep, but it just wasn't a very long one. Never mind, I'm sure I will catch up again at some point. It isn't important now. What is important is that it is now officially my birthday and I have that birthday feeling too of slight excitement and anticipation at what the day will bring. I feel like a young kid and like I'm turning 12, although I don't remember my 12th birthday, so no doubt it wasn't such a big deal. I do know that I was in my first year in secondary school and that it was tough and I had to get used to it very much, but no doubt I was too young to be in it.

I'm sitting here now with my second cup of coffee, in my bathrobe, and very optimistically waiting for the real morning to start. It hasn't started raining yet like it said it would and with a little bit of luck it won't rain at all this morning, which would be fortuitous if I'm to go downtown this morning. It's supposed to rain in the southwest first and then slowly come over here. It depends of your interpretation of slowly. I don't mind getting wet on the way home, I can get dried off once I get there. It's when I go there that I don't want to get wet. There's nothing more miserable than walking around downtown soaking wet.

I can't wait to pick out my present, especially since I possibly know what it is going to be and hoping I can find it. I will walk straight into the store to the right department and pick out the right size and color. Then we're going to have coffee and then my sister has to go to work.

I've turned 56 today, but except for the traces my age has left on my body, the number is meaningless. I feel as young as I did when I was in my 30's and in many ways I have not aged, though I must add that I have grown wiser and would not want to lose that wisdom that has been hard to come by. It's ironic that I should grow sage when I'm in my 50's while other people have managed that much earlier, but maybe they have not gone through the School of Hard Knocks. Or maybe they were not as backward and naive as I was. I seem to make discoveries about myself and life that I should have made much sooner and I'm glad I'm making them now, but I should have known these thing much earlier in life. I could have saved myself much trouble.

Nevertheless, I know them now and I hope I get to apply them for another 30 years or so. Long enough to make it worthwhile anyway. I do hope to do some good with it. Even if it's just for the sake of myself. I do hope to live to a healthy ripe old age and gain some good experiences out of life. One thing I think I'm saved of, and that is that I will grow old as a bitter woman. There was some danger of that at one point, but I'm not worried about that anymore. I'm not bitter at this point and see no reason to be so in the future. I hope that stays that way. It's best if I keep living my life my own way, according to my own rules.

So much philosophizing so early in the morning. I told you that's when I'm at my best. Any endeavor I start, I should start at this time of the day. That's when it should be most successful. I can imagine that if I had the space and the materials, I would create the best works of art now. But that's just speculation. The proof would be in the pudding and there is no pudding until I get the opportunity.

I haven't heard anything about the creative and music classes yet, but I was not expecting to. There are the waiting lists and I haven't been on them very long. I will call in a month and make sure they haven't forgotten about me. I'm sure the system works and I have nothing to worry about. One of these days there will be a letter in the mail.

It's amazingly cold for how warm it is supposed to be in here and I wonder if the thermostat is telling me the right temperature or if it is an optimistically tuned one. Maybe it is hanging in a warm pocket of air. Maybe I have to calculate in the draft chill factor. I have socks on and haven't been without for three days. I even wear them in bed, because it's chilly under the duvet at night. I lie there and wait for my space to get warmed up and avoid the cold places. It would be worse with cold feet, but I have notoriously cold feet. That's okay, I'd rather not be warmed up like an oven in bed, which is the problem when you sleep with someone else. That's only good in really cold winters when the ice is on the windows and that never happens, knock on wood.

I'm amazingly free of anxiety. I'm full of good cheer and I'm looking forward to the day. When I was cleaning out the dresser drawers, I found stuff to decorate the room with for a birthday and I just may do that today. I can at least blow up the balloons and Tyke can play with them afterwards. No doubt he'll pop every one of them, but that will be part of the fun. I'm going to look at those items now.

Have a splendid day. I wish you could all come over to help me celebrate.

Ciao,
Nora

Turning into a cynic...

It's late at night and I'm having my usual cup of coffee, because I'm not at all worried about it keeping me awake. Coffee doesn't seem to have that effect on me. I've already slept or should I say, had my nighttime nap, and now I'll be awake for a while and sit here in the silence of the night all by my lonesome self. Well, I'm not quite lonely, because I do have the animals and that is supposed to relieve my solitary existence somewhat.

When I woke up, I had a revelation and I thought, "Why should I live this lonesome life, when what I want is to be part of a family and have a husband and children and grandchildren.?" I want to be a member of an intimate group of people who are related to me and with whom I have meaningful relationships. I want to undertake things, see the world, go to the theater, see films, go to museums, go out for dinner, travel, enjoy the finer things of life before I die. Know love and be loved.

At the same time I knew that these things would never happen and that I would have to accept my fate as it is and that's what turns me into a cynic, because I see people complaining about their lives who have a lot more than I have, yet they don't appreciate it while I try to make them feel better. I am a fool for doing so and I'm not going to do it anymore. From now on I won´t play Mother Theresa anymore, but be a tough broad, and not waste my emotions on other people´s so called miseries.

I feel that being a cynic is the only road open to me. I can´t be like my older sister who pretends to be one, but who in reality cares way too much and has her heart broken and is overly burdened. I´d rather not believe in all those emotions and extremes of feelings and trying to find mutual understanding and compassion. I´m actually quite disappointed, but don´t want that to get me down, so I choose the road of cynicism instead.

Being a cynic saves you from getting emotionally involved up to your ears. It prevents you from getting in too deep into other people´s seemingly unsolvable problems that they refuse to take care of themselves. It keeps you safe from an onslaught of emotions and drama that will pull you under as sure as the spring tide does. It makes you immune against pity parties and woe-is-me stories. It can save your mind, if your mind needs saving.

Nevertheless, I don´t feel that I´m living the life I´m supposed to live, which is so hollowed out and so bare of the basic necessities that I´m just eking out a minimum existence. I make myself happy with little things and teach myself to find some joy in them. I do this without anybody else´s help. I don´t continually live in a state of high drama. I´m not a victim. I´m not a martyr. I´m just somebody stating the reality of her situation. I could really get very down about this, but that is not what I choose for. I do try to concentrate on the half full glass.

Does a cynic concentrate on the half full glass or does he go find a bottle at all cost to fill his glass to the rim with? Selfishly? Yes, maybe he would do that. Self interest is at the heart of a cynic.

I´ve just had a tall glass of cold milk and I´m thinking of going back to bed after I´ve revealed myself so well to you. There should be a few more hours of sleep in me, although I´m not sleepy right now. It will be more out of a sense of responsibility that I go than anything else. I do have to get up in the morning and function.

Have a good morning when you get up.

Ciao,
Nora

Sunday early in the morning...

No new snow fell during the night and we are left with the snow as it was yesterday, trodden on by a dozen feet and compacted by car tires. More snow is expected today and more wind from the northeast. From Siberia, as my sister says. Right now it's cloudy and a mere -2C, so it's not very cold at all. Well, I wouldn't want to go out there in my bathrobe and slippers, but then nobody is expecting me to.

I've been up for quite a while. I went to bed very early last night, finding that I had no patience to watch the television and no energy to blog. I would sleep longer, I think, if it weren't for the pain in that darn arm that keeps waking me up. It radiates from my shoulder, because I know I have a bad shoulder and it hurts too. I may end up going to the doctor with it, even if he says there's nothing that can be done about it. I can't afford physiotherapy, so that's out. I think I will get the heating pad out and put that on my shoulder and see if it helps me any. It's very frustrating not to be able to do anything.

In the meantime, I've had my second cup of coffee, I've fed the cats and petted the dog several times, and I've had a tall glass of multi vitamin juice, which was delicious. I'm imagining that my hair has gotten thicker now that I take that special vitamin pill every day, but that may really just be my imagination. It seems that way to me anyway. It would be really good, because I had a thin patch on my head that really showed up and my mother used to have it too. I guess I'm genetically predisposed. My bad luck. I try to fix my hair in such a way that it doesn't show up, but I'm not always successful.

That special shampoo and conditioner I bought for brown hair work great, though. My hair is keeping the color I dyed it in much better and there aren't any roots showing yet. Usually the color would have faded by now and I would have had to dye it again, so it was worth buying those products. Andrélon has them for blond hair too and you can use those products too if blond and brown or red are your natural colors. It just perks them up a bit. Hey, I should be paid for being a spokeswoman again. I do speak up for a product every once in a while, completely free of charge and hey, hair is dead, you can do to it what you like, it's your scalp that counts.

I put my reading glasses on this morning to read what it said on the tube of ointment that I'm now using for my eczema. Much to my surprise it turned out to be a homeopathic medicine. Now, I hold no faith in homeopathic medicine whatsoever. I don't believe in it, so it is with great skepticism that I will continue using this ointment, but I'm going to give it a fair chance and see if it will do the job. It says that I need to apply it 2 to 3 times a day and so I will. I'm not going to dismiss it outright and say it won't work. I will just assume that it will and forget my prejudice. Stranger things have happened and maybe I will be proved wrong. I used to be very skeptic about antidepressants too, and about mood stabilizers, until I started using them. Once I'm done with the tube, I'll look for an ointment that's based on medicinal herbs. When I'm done with this post, I'm going to look up the main ingredient in the ointment.

Oh well, I just did. The main ingredient is from a plant called Cardiospermum Haliacabum, also called "Love in a Puff" in English. It is a vine from Africa, South America and India and the product of the plant is used there for skin conditions. Well, you learn something new every day. Maybe this ointment will work after all. Except that homeopathic medicine just has the very diluted "memory" of the original ingredient in it. So it's really quack medicine, but like I said, I may be wrong. The ointment is called Cardiflor. I'll keep you updated. At least I didn't go out and buy it, because I never would have.

It pays to always be skeptical in this world and to not believe everything you hear outright. People make so many claims and tell so many stories. It's best to be a cynic and to be your own best advisor and to look up information as well as you can before you accept all sorts of Indian stories. It's unbelievable how gullible some people are or want to be, or just are because they lack a certain amount of common sense or power of deduction. When someone says to me that I'm a cynic, I'm proud of it, because that means the wool can't be pulled over my eyes easily. I'd rather be a cynic than the naive believer in things that I used to be when I was younger and impressionable and not taught to rely on my own powers of observation. Being impressionable is not a positive trait. I say, make your children skeptical and teach them to be cynical. They'll be better armed to survive in this world.

When I was young, I was taught to ignore many things that were just very wrong and I was not allowed to talk about them or acknowledge them in any way. That teaches you to doubt yourself and your feelings and your powers of observation. It also teaches you to accept the unacceptable. You can see how subsequently that allows you to get into all sorts of unpleasant situations when you get older. You doubt yourself too much to put your foot down and demand proper treatment and living conditions. You don't know when you are in an unacceptable situation. You go along with whatever program you find yourself in, no matter how unpleasant it is. It's very awful to be denied the truth of your situation when you are a child, but also when you are older and you don't have the tools yet to extract yourself. You find yourself trying to manage a life that you're not equipped for and there's nobody around to show you that it's not okay, that there's something seriously wrong with it. If on top of that you are naive and gullible and impressionable, you have a very sad situation. That's why I prefer being a skeptic and a cynic and I hope I only become more so.

That was a little observation on life I allowed myself. Now it's time to eat breakfast and go back to bed for a while. I've got to get a few more hours of sleep. First I've got to find the heating pad, but I think I gave it to the Exfactor when he had a backache.

Have a wonderful Sunday and don't let the weather get you down.

Ciao,
Nora