Thank You

I wrote this for the 10th anniversary of 9/11:

Band Back Together: In Remembrance of 9/11

It's quite possibly the only thing I've ever written about 9/11 that I don't loathe.

Wishing everyone love today.

Artichoke Wednesday

Because.

There was this email conversation with The Brains last night. About how awesome yesterday's post would have been if I'd been angry with an artichoke, not an article. (Thank you, Dawn) And Aunt Becky was all like, "I'm writing that post, bitches!" Or something to that effect. And Tracie was all like, "I already have! Hah!" And Carol Anne said she was in. I think Cindy and LucidLotus were really talking about fashion. But anyway.

That's how "Artichoke Wednesday" happened. If I had technical skills, there would be a button and a linky here. Instead, I give you this:

From TurmericSaffron. 

So, artichokes. Just for the record, I have never gotten mad at an artichoke. I think I probably could, though, if I tried to make something with one. Um, like spinach and artichoke dip. I seriously can't think of anything else you would make with an artichoke, but then again my children are known to get their anti-vegetable stance from me, so what the hell do I know? 

Other than artichokes look like they'd be hard to cut up. Hot Guy is sure I'm going to slice off a finger with my (lack of) cutting technique, but the only time I've even cut myself was when I was trying to slice a melon someone else's way. So, at least in my slow, messy way, I'm doing something right. But the artichoke would probably confuse me. It looks like maybe you could just pull it apart? And then mash it for the dip? 

That sounds  like a lot of work when it won't be as good as guacamole. Okay, no dip is as good as guacamole (which I do know how to make, mainly because it looked pretty easy when the waiter at this Mexican restaurant did it and then Hot Guy showed me how), but some come close.  Though only a really good spinach and artichoke dip could and I've only had a couple of those in my lifetime. Though that may be the spinach's fault. 

Spinach is kind of gross, after all. 

I think I need a good, easy recipe that has to do with artichokes. Also, directions on how to cut up an artichoke. Then I could fairly judge whether artichokes piss me off. 

Marvelous Monday

Over at Band Back Together, we have Dose of Happy Mondays every week.



And every week, I forget to participate. Except this week! This week I have a list of awesome stuff for you to click on, so that you can be happy too. Or you can even join in on your own blog and share a link!  But I called the post "Marvelous Monday" because I really like alliteration. And I feel like "marvelous" is an under-utilized word these days. Anyway, things that make me happy and/or are marvelous . . .

1. That my cousin finally has an outlet for his obsession with Charlie's Angels.

2. That my other cousin moved to Hawaii, became a homeschooler and started a blog in the space of a month. (Confession: This actually makes me happy AND jealous, but she says we can come visit so I'm trying to let go of the jealousy).

3. That my mom started blogging. (New personal goal: Get entire extended family to start blogging.)

4. That Hot Guy is spending more time on Twitter. (Though he already has a higher Klout score than I do. Which is unfair.)

5. That my dad is also hanging out on Twitter. (He also has a higher Klout score than I do. Maybe I should try get the entire family on Twitter instead and have them retweet me so that I could get a higher Klout score? Or possibly I should stop obsessing about my Klout score.)

6. This lovely back-to-school letter. It's a bit too religious for me to share with my kids verbatim, but I'll be sharing similar ideas with my own kiddos this week when they finally go back to school.

What's making you happy today, readers?

The Canyon

So there comes a point in every blogger's life where s/he needs to write a post but has no freaking clue how to start. I am dancing on that point right now.

Do I start with THE AWESOME BAND?

Do I start with the hugely long backstory, as I so often do?

Do I explain that May has been Mental Health Awareness month and that the Band wants to bust some stigmas?

Do I just say it?

I am the face of depression.

In my head, depression is a huge canyon. There's my life before I acknowledged it, on the one side, and it's littered with nightmares and panic attacks and fantasies of suicide.  In college, I fell all the way to the bottom of it while I finally dealt with being molested as a kid, family issues that aren't mine to tell, getting pregnant the first time I had sex, the subsequent abortion and an experience with a "friend" that just crossed the border into date rape territory. I started cutting, bingeing and continued with my high school faves of drinking too much and making myself vomit. I spent time in therapy, crying, writing, punching pillows and talking to amazing friends, and I got better.  I climbed part of the way out, then fell in love with my first husband, who became very emotionally and verbally abusive. I fell a lot closer to the bottom again. Then I was diagnosed with ulcerative colitis and went back into therapy. I nodded when my ex threatened to leave. I wrote. I threw myself into teaching. I made even more amazing friends. I eventually met Hot Guy. 

I eventually made it to the top of the canyon. I'm on the other side. I thought it would be all sunshine and roses here, but it's not. 

Sometimes shit happens and the canyon beckons, telling me that I don't have to face anything, that I can just sleep for 16 hours a day and make myself bleed. That it will be easier to feel a generic self-hate than to acknowledge what's really going on in my head. Sometimes I still binge. Sometimes I still smoke. Sometimes I still drink too much. Sometimes I don't even notice the roses. And then I realize that I'm on a ledge in the canyon and there's climbing to do. 

Every day that I am honest and aware and gentle with myself takes me farther away from the edge of the canyon. Every day that I am comfortable in my own skin takes me farther away from the edge of the canyon. 

I am terrified to post this. I am afraid people will feel uncomfortable with me. I am afraid people will judge me. I am afraid family members will be ashamed of me.  I am afraid that I sound crazy when I talk about the canyon. I am afraid that certain people in my town will read this (not that they read my blog now, but who said fears had to be rational?) and be even snottier to me than they already are. 

I also know that this is the only way I can build a wall between me and the canyon. Of course, the canyon will still be there. Depression is something I'm always going to have to live with. But every barrier I put between me and the canyon will help me to not fall in again. 

So I'm coming out. Because shame is like a mudslide straight into the canyon.