Tuesday, July 3, 2012
I think it's important to talk about mental illness. There is such a stigma attached to it, and a general feeling (that I pick up on, at least), that's it's not real. My mental illness is a huge factor in my life. It prevents me from leaving the house, from accomplishing simple tasks, from keeping a steady job, from meeting simple obligations. I put some pressure on myself yesterday to work on my doll, and I completely shut down. Today I have residual stress and anxiety that prevents me from going to lace class, and I won't be able to go to lace club tonight. I should just get over it? If only it were that simple. I've tried to get over this since I was eight. Partly, I'm sure, it was worsened by being the wrong sex. Certainly it was aggravated by being raised by an alcoholic. It was at the very worse when I left home for college, when I would have done anything to get away from home. Today is a real struggle. I woke up in the middle of the night and did a little work on my doll. In the light of the day, I found faults, of course. I undid the work, and will try to work it again today. I have so much pain about these dolls, but I'm compelled to make them. Or one. I second guess what sort of doll I should be making. But these things are normal for doll makers. I guess the only thing different for me is my reaction to set backs. A set back can paralyze me for days, so that I am unable to do anything. Right now, the only thing that consistently brings me joy and soothes me is lace making, but without the dolls, there is no application for it. I do have a rescue drug, and I will take it today. I call it The Big Pill. It has terrible side effects, but nothing brings me back to reality like this pill. So I will take it, and hopefully I can get my cooking done today. Two batches of beans, salad fixings, dinner. I'll be in the kitchen all day. I wish I could be at the lace pillow. Maybe I can squeeze some work in.