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Very very hot peppers but not neon.
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At the moment, there are two cats who would prefer to be sitting on this keyboard. They do not care if I am trying to think or work. At least our five cats are no longer fighting with one another. There is a neighbor cat who regularly tries to get in the broken window and kill someone, usually Emmylou who sleeps on the bookshelf beneath the window.
Sigh.
Depression, down in the crazy dumps, can hit a clinically depressed person (and maybe you others?) at random times. I have been feeling substantially relieved that someone has offered me a place to live and regroup after Janet's demise. That means the world to me. His sincere and much-repeated offer finally sunk it and I accepted it. A whole level of anxiety left me (not to worry, there is more). So, my overall mood has been a tad better.
For those of you who have yet to deal with it, aging ... on their (maybe slow) way out parents are an unbelievable heartbreak. Every little regression means so much. Can I let that one slide? Or does that cognitive behavior need to get up to some speed again? If she loses this, when will she lose that?
And then there is yourself to consider. Are you looking at yourself a-not-too-many-years in the future? Is macular degeneration in my future? Given my reading addiction, will I lose that comforting skill so soon? Janet has no patience for finding narrative shows to watch anymore so resorts to hours of CNN, MSNBC, Shark Tank, and home improvement shows. There's not a lot to follow and keep track of from even week to week.
If I were a better caregiver, I would watch more tv with her and engage her more. But even keeping the minimum of household tasks and cleaning and having any intellectual life of my own is kind of more than I can handle. A couple of friends who have similar depression/overwhelmed issues and I have come up with a "Three Thing Per Day" rule to get us through the most unproductive days. It does give us a bit of an attainable goal. Particularly if two of those things are some combination of get out of bed/make the bed/drink coffee.
Well, this is probably enough in this vein for one post. It's pretty much always on my mind and in my reality, but a change here and there is good. Back to sweet sleep while listening to Middlemarch.
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| Post-season SFS pool. I was all alone. |
CAUGHT
If something
gets caught
like a bone
in the throat
it isn't right.
We know this
with fish:
it isn't polite
to cough.
Our life
is at risk.
But there are
so many wrong thoughts
we refuse to release
massaging
our own throats
like pâté geese.
— Kay Ryan, The Best of It: New and Selected Poems, New York, Grove Press, 2010
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