July 31, 2013


I can't shake this constant feeling of being annoyed. It's like someone has been poking me on the shoulder for a few weeks now, and I just want to turn around and bitch slap them.

Partially, it's my situation. I'm totally stuck between finding the right moment to move forward, and feeling not at all ready to do that. I keep thinking about where I could volunteer as a starting point, and it just seems so daunting. I don't think an hour a week would even be doable. Firstly, who would want to take me on? I feel like a liability with all my health problems. And secondly, what could I even do anyways? I can see myself joyfully taking on a new responsibility, and then getting joyfully punted out of it after I call in sick for the millionth time because I'm too unwell to do anything.

I'm having trouble concentrating with my DP stuff lately. I am re-reading Vedic Mythology because it's just not sinking in. I'm trying to take a lot of notes, but my lack of ability to concentrate and digest material just makes me feel really, really stupid. And I'm not, so that's frustrating. People ask me about things that I KNOW I know, and I just draw a blank. I'm not sure what can repair that...

31 is a weird age to be stuck. Everyone around me is having families, getting their careers well on their way, and I'm back to being 19 again. It's horribly painful. I don't know what I want to do for a living, if I even had the capacity to go through with it right now, and I am by no means ready to have kids. I don't think I'll ever be. Let's face it... if I don't get there by 35, I think it's probably not right to try. So I have 3.5 years to fix my life, if it's fixable to the amount it would need to be for me to try and get pregnant. And what if I want to go back to school? How do I fit both of those things in? My life is slowly slipping me by, and there's nothing I can seem to do to fix it.

I wish I could just grab the bull by the horns like I normally would, and take that one big step out of hell. But I can't even decide where a good starting place would even be. 

I sort of feel like, why the fuck would I even bother? I know 31 seems young enough for those people who are 41 or 51 and starting a new career; it's all relative. And I AM going to go back to school... I'm not about to work at Walmart for the rest of my life. But 4 or 5 or more years of school at this point seems daunting.

The most fun part of all of this is: no one can decide these things but me. 


July 21, 2013

DP Requirements: Personal Religion

My personal religion has always been centred around observation. Even when I was Christian, I had a sort of “language” going with God that I would take certain things to mean certain things, and this has simply morphed to fit into my new Pagan hat. I am keenly aware of signs, and this has taken me far in my faith, whatever you would tend to call said faith at any given time.

I first came by Druidry after happening across a deck of Philip Carr-Gomm's Oracle Cards at the bookstore. I was very into Doreen Virtue's Angel Cards at the time, which, let's face it, is basically Tarot-lite for the Christian-minded. I was amazed that Druidry was a “thing”, and immediately knew I wanted to know more about it.

Fast forward a few years, and I was finding myself restless with OBOD, and had ADF in the back of my mind. I wanted to try to meet some actual Pagan folk in the area, which brought me to what would become Northern Rivers Protogrove. The organizer was an ADF member, and gave me the experiential knowledge I needed to join myself. Somehow, I had found a group, and the Kindreds smacked me upside the head with the proof I needed that ADF was a good choice for me.

Since then, I've been trying to keep up with my guidepost method. Our Protogrove is almost entirely Celtic, so I learn a lot from our rituals. We have a ritual each High Day, and usually some sort of meeting or get-together in between. I've attended most of them, and they've been great opportunities to grow in my faith as well as my fellowship with other pagan-minded people. So far, I've had the chance to write the liturgy for and lead one ritual, which was for Summer Solstice. We focussed on Manannan Mac Lir, and it was both difficult and enlightening for me to be put in the situation of forming a relationship with a deity on a tighter schedule.

One of the most important reasons I joined ADF is for the inclusion of the Vedic hearth culture. I keep bouncing between these two cultures as which seems to be more prevalent at any given time, but I've formed relationships with Brighid to some degree, and the Morrigan in a bigger way. The Vedic Pantheon I am still trying to figure out. As a yoga instructor, I've had much exposure to the Hindu gods, and I haven't neglected my old relationships despite the distinction between Vedism and Hinduism. I've been working with the concept of Prthivi as the Earth Mother, and am moving more towards calling her in my personal work. I've worked a lot with Agni as well, and call to him each time I light a candle. Mostly, my work towards knowing the deities of the Vedic pantheon consists of reading about them, to see which direction I feel pulled.

The Morrigan is the goddess I feel most called to work with. I started doing some daily devotionals to her, as I felt called to explore some of my own inner “warrior goddess”. I offer her alcohol of some sort if I happen to have it, and if not, my appreciation and affection. Back to the theme of guideposts: I have often since seen ravens in groups of three when I most need reassurance. Strangely enough, during one particularly stressful hospital appointment, the nurse started talking about how much she liked ravens, and how she thought they were the smartest and most handsome of the birds, and how she had no idea why she just told me that. I take signs like this as good evidence that I'm working in the right direction.

Probably the simplest and most important part of my spiritual practice, aside from my work with the deities, is communing with nature. At the very least, it is easily accessible to me in the form of my dogs (we just love howling), and in my backyard when the weather is favourable. I've had the opportunity this year to build a shrine for each of the three Kindreds in my rock garden, as well as a sidhe garden, in which I've let everything grow as wild as it likes. My little sidhe garden has tons of little flowers blossoming in it, and I've noticed an upturn in growth in general in that part of my lawn. Purple Sweet Peas and Queen Anne's Lace and beautiful green vines that had never grown there before, are now plentiful. I take time as often as I can to say “hi” to them, and to thank them for their healing presence.

My relationship with the Ancestors ebbs and flows. Sometimes, I feel very called to venerate those that came before, and other times, it feels less like celebration and more like attending their funeral in my thoughts once again, and intensely painful. I suppose my Christian upbringing doesn't help that concept much, but I'm trying to align my heart with my head as far as things like the Otherworld are concerned, and even reincarnation. My altar is covered in pictures of the Ancestors of my heart and of my blood.

Going forward, I would like to move towards a more solid foundation in what I actually personally believe to be true. I have a hard time forming relationships with the Shining Ones especially, because I'm not one hundred percent sure whether I'm in the hard or soft polytheist camp. Pantheist, or Panentheist, though I think I lean towards the latter. It would be useful to be able to feel driven one way or the other, but these things have to come about in their own time, so I can be patient. I'm sure whenever they deem it necessary, I'll be given another not-so-subtle sign, as usual.

July 18, 2013

Warning: Bitchy Post Ahead

I've neglected this blog for awhile, mostly because I've been having a really hard time, and I didn't feel like I had anything worth blogging about (or worth reading).

However, I've decided that a) I need some catharsis and b) even negative struggles are part of the journey. So here goes.

I've tried every treatment there is for my particular brand of depression, and I mean EVERYTHING aside from the electroshock therapy. Yes, they still do that. No, I'll never consent. I'm not getting very far. I got in a bit of a war last week when my well meaning but overworked psychiatrist criticized me for not having added on a drug that I've taken before, and that totally fucked up my sleep and gave me night terrors. (Yes, night terrors. Not nightmares. Those are for sissies. I'm talking about the "you wake up when someone is crawling through your window to stab you only to realize that you really haven't woken up at all and someone is still crawling through the window to stab you only to wake up and realize"... you get the picture.) So, obviously, I'm slightly trepidatious in attempting round 2 with this new drug. It's supposedly a good combo (google California Rocket Fuel... seriously. That's what this combo is called), but it also has a chance of increasing suicidal ideation and anxiety in the short term. Feeling like I've been feeling, I'm not sure I'm up for an increase in those feelings. I wouldn't consider myself suicidal, but... let's just say it's been a long time since I've felt that life was worth living for more than a brief moment. Anyways. Top that up with marital/familial issues and a lack of a good support system (or a lack of ability to call upon such when needed), and I've been feeling pretty fucked.

And then apparently my doctor picks yesterday as the moment I'm to go to the "contraception clinic" to figure out what my birth control should look like, since I have so many complicating factors. (Being insulin-dependent, all these head meds, and apparently high blood pressure, which isn't even an issue. I just really hate doctors, so every time I go, it's through the roof). My hubby had to surprise me with this appointment, because he knew had I have known that my doctor was cutting me off of my birth control, I would have probably smashed her windows in (not exaggerating).

So off we go, to the fucking hospital, and I hate fucking hospitals, because every time I go to one of these hellholes, I get a) mistreated (I've been left in a bedpan for over an hour, verbally abused to the point that the abuser got a week's worth in anger management, no clean sheets or gowns for almost a week... the list goes on), or b) people forget I'm human, and that part of my physiology includes panic and anxiety disorder, as well as Dysthymia complicated by Major Depressive Disorder and SHEER TERROR BROUGHT ON BY WHITE COATS.

Everything goes... okay. I didn't try to murder anyone, and I only broke down sobbing once. I had a complete breakdown before going, and my knees only shook hard enough that I could waddle to the building, instead of hubby having to carry me.

The part that gets me is this: as a kid, I was one of the lucky girls that had 10 day periods that basically looked like a murder scene. Cramps, mood swings, all to the nth degree. And they decide that this is something that's worth changing, right now, at this juncture, when I'm having such struggles with my mood already?

Are you fucking kidding me?

Yes. Let's take the person who is self described as unstable and who is never quite sure when she could legitimately be a danger to herself, and let's fuck with her hormones.

So I don't have any of my meds straight, I don't feel okay, I straight up tell them that this is a terrible idea, but I still have to go back in 3 months to provide a blood pressure record.


This... this right here... is the sort of thing I deal with *all the time*. I mean ALL the time. I'm always dealing with asshole doctors that are always trying to fuck with the way I have things set out that WORK for me. My methods may not be perfect, but have you ever tried getting traction in life when there's not a single part of it that has steady footing?

And frankly, from my perspective, it's nothing short of a miracle that I haven't just taken a fistful of pills to this point, so a potential risk of 18/100,000 (that's a 0.018% chance, ladies and gentlemen), does not frighten me in the SLIGHTEST. When you feel as though you'd be better off dead most of the time, (whether that is an accurate fact or not, perception is reality), you tend not to care about such inconsequential details. It would be much more dangerous for me to get pregnant. It's more dangerous for me to be on the high dose of benzodiazepines that I've been on for over 2 years (only supposed to take them for a month or less at my current dosage). I am on too many Category X prescriptions, that I would have to have an abortion if I got pregnant. How's *that* for adding to mental health? Not that I'm really interested in sex (see: anti-depressants and their effect on sex drive), but is this something that is in line with the Hippocratic Oath? Really?

Never mind the fact that I can't eat half of the stuff that would allow me to be healthier. I have some as yet undiagnosed stomach problem that prevents me from eating pretty much anything raw. Sometimes vegetables entirely. My neck is in an absolute mess from an injury 10+ years ago, and I am in pain at least daily. My knee hasn't been right in over a month and I have no idea why. My birth control method would be pretty far down my list of priorities. Or, what about all this ear pain and dizzy spells? Should we take a look at that? The fact that my thyroid is out of control?

So this is my life right now. This is one of many examples on how my life is spiralling slowly out of control. I thought I hit rock bottom 3 years ago... maybe we're not there yet. And to think, the day before, I had got out my yoga mat and spent awhile chillin', and I found that I could still do a lot of stuff. I was feeling hopeful. Apparently that's not something that the universe is allowing me though right now: a moment's respite.

And you want to blindside me, and drag me into the hospital, to talk to me about my 0.018% chance of getting a blood clot?