Wednesday, February 5, 2014


Drip, drip, drip. Warm. 60% chance of thunderstorms today. Boys coming this afternoon. A short day with them, a long day tomorrow. The camellias are crazy in bloom. I want to pick them ALL and screw whoever said that if you see a flower, leave it where it is. I want to bring them all into the house where I can see them close up, fifty-eight times a day, there will be more on the bushes and what good does it do to let them die there, on the bush? Go brown and drop off. Here's a sad thing- the old, abandoned houses with the camellias blooming fully and no one to see them, appreciate them at all. Like jewels scattered on a casketed corpse's tattered lace decolletage.

Gibson likes to pick camellias and de-petal them, especially from the vases. He litters the dining room with camellia petals. He has a broom but he doesn't use it.
You know what I hate? When I'm sweeping and someone tries to help by holding the dustpan for me. Honeychile, I have swept up approximately enough dirt and dust in my lifetime to fill the Super Dome. Is there a Super Dome? Whatever. But I cannot sweep the dirt and dust into a dustpan that someone else holds. The dustpan portion of the sweeping is mine to do.
Don't fucking help me.
Thank you.

I am angry still today. I don't even know why. Angry at myself, I suppose because I can't get out of this funk/fear. Angry because I am screwing around with the life of my husband in that I am not being the wife he deserves. He comes home after a long, long, LONG day of work and driving and here I am. Angry. Depressed. Sad.
He doesn't deserve that.
I am screwing around with my own life. Here's where I DID get emotional yesterday- when I told Dr. Hypnotist that I have a most wonderful life and am blessed with a most wonderful family and that I simply and merely want to be able to enjoy it.
Say those words and mean them and you might find yourself crying a little bit.

I hate showing my guts to strangers like him. I hate letting my eyes go shiny with tears in front of dentists/doctors/nurses/lab people/and-now-hypnotists. They don't know what to do with that stuff. I don't even know what to do with that stuff and it's mine.


One can be a cover for the other. You can feel angry but really be sad. You can feel sad but really be angry. Can you be both at the same time?

Maybe it's all about turning sixty this year. Sixty is white-hair-swollen-joints-swollen-ankles-wrinkles-sensible-shoes-face-it-baby-it's-all-downhill-from-here-let's-go-eat-dinner-it's-five-thirty.

Maybe not but you know what? We internalize that shit. We may not even realize it until it comes upon us and then there we are.

Walk. Have to do it. Hey! I could look like this:

Jacky O'Shaughnessy, 62-year old model. Seems like beautiful older women are getting a lot of attention these days. Guess what? Every fucking one of them is still preternaturally thin. Tall and thin as broom straws. So yeah, they may be terrific role models but not for me. For me (and for most woman, I think) simply an extension of an unobtainable definition of beauty long after the days when we should even care. Still persisting.

Anger and sadness. The sky clears and then it comes down rain again. The blackbird gives a rusty rising note. Two eggs already this morning, warm in my palm as I carry them to the house through the misting rain.

Good morning.


  1. "Anger and sadness. The sky clears and then it comes down rain again. The blackbird gives a rusty rising note. Two eggs already this morning, warm in my palm as I carry them to the house through the misting rain."

  2. I vote for finding a different hypnotist. What you feel, how you feel, around this guy, matters. Take your needs seriously. (I may be talking to myself here. Feel free to ignore me.)

  3. We do internalize that shit. I turned 61 this year and am feeling like the world is out to get me. In the last 2 weeks I have been rear-ended, fell and broke my RIGHT wrist and have gained back almost every pound I lost last year. I can't tie my fucking shoes, feed my chickens (10 inches of snow out there and I'm scared to fucking death to go out in it). I'm feeling so useless and used up and old I could--and have--scream.

    On a bright note, I can wipe my ass with my left hand, and managed to tie my own shoes this morning. And that only took 15 minutes.

  4. this is an anxious honest beautifully written post.

  5. Do you think maybe the hipNOsis bubbled up some past anger that you've been holding on to? Hell, I don't know. It reminds me of dreams, when you have bad dreams and it stirs all these emotions we cling to, makes them fresh again and the entire day, for no reason other than a dream, we're pissed. I think the fact that you are open to wanting something to change is a good indication that something will change. Like putting a flag up in the universe. It will find you, something will work for you. Keep looking. And in the meantime, there is always writing. xoxo

  6. I've commented here once, but I read you every day. I look forward to your thoughts, your words of truth and feeling. I was diagnosed with depression 10 years ago and that beast will just not go away.

    Your feelings of not being a good wife to your husband are the exact same feelings I have about mine. I sat in a doctor's office crying (for no reason) and explained to her that the beast is as bad now as ever and she asked me what dose of Prozac I was on and said, "I'll refill it." When I explained to her that my husband and I hadn't done our "matrimonial duties" in a year she just blushed and typed it in her notes on her computer. I wish that mental health got the attention from GPs that heart disease and cancer got. I appreciate that you are sharing your struggles, because it makes me feel like I'm closer to "normal" than what society thinks I am.

  7. Oh MM, I think nothing I say will be good enough or of any help. "I am screwing around with my own life." resonates with me so deeply and I know you so well to know that this is paining you so deeply. And I hate this.

  8. I'm 67 in July and I remember 60 as being the worse year ever. It didn't bother me at all turning 40 or 50, but 60 was hell for me. I think mostly because I could see the evidence so clearly. However, a few years later and I am basically okay with age, except for the arthritic pains that is.
    Sadness and anger are the same thing for me. I cover up my sadness from others with anger because I don't want anyone to know how much I hurt.
    Oh and btw, flowers like to me brought inside.

  9. That woman. That model. Seriously? My god, even when society is getting away from young and beautiful we get slammed. When will we ever win?

    Go pick every single one of the flowers. Put them all over your home and take delight in them. Then give some to Gibson and let him pull the pedals off. In fact, pull the pedals off with him.

  10. Sigh. I wish I had something to say, but I don't. Well, maybe. I think you should not give up, that you don't have to nor shouldn't feel as bad as you feel -- that you WILL find relief, that something will help. I believe in you, all beautiful sixty years of you. I really do.

  11. well, yet again you are so right... there is no instant fix for anxiety, it sits like a heavy dog until it is ready to leave and lollop around and away until it feels its time again to sit on your chest.. hateful, but one can get to live with it... hard... but no instant fixes.. I've never been a fan of hypnosis, and I did laugh at your description of him trying to get you out of the 'trance',, good on ya, I guess that what I am trying to say, is that you are fine just as you are, and one day all those horrible feelings will lie quiet and peaceful.. so keep on trying as you do, to get through each day with your wonderful grandsons, children and smashing husband.. I havent been writing my blog, no inspiration, so I am in awe of you doing just that each and every day.. by the way, you are right about that woman in her sixties, she is skinny, has no tits, and doesnt look like real ladies look... so not a strike for equality at all!!!

  12. I resist taking drugs. I hate putting them in my body. But when i couldn't stand it anymore and in order to have quality of life I have surrendered. Sometimes it is necessary. Sometimes that slight chemical boost can help you you take in other things and I am not talking about the crazy hypnosis experience you tried. I commend you for trying but I'd run for the hills on that one. Maybe it is hormonal and age related and maybe it is age related and will pass but my question is why continue living like this one minute longer and questioning yourself (which I've done too) when there are legitamate medications for uncontrollable anxiety? Sweet Jo

  13. Sylvia- Thank you. So much.

    Sarah- Not for now. I am feeling too anti-hypnotist. But maybe someday. I know they work for some. Did one work for you in some way?

    Akannie- Good god! Perhaps you need to see someone to remove the curse! You did make me laugh though.

    Rebecca- Well it certainly was written from a place of anxiety. Thank you so much.

    Rachel- You could be right. Who knows? I know that I and probably most of us, carry around more anger than we are aware of.
    The writing- it never fails me. Never.

    Sarah- It is impossible to be the sort of wife one wants to be when one is consumed with anxiety or depression. There is no way around that. And I WISH that the medical profession was more open to discussing these things. Are they not as much a part of our wellbeing as anything else? You are right. And you are not alone.

    SJ- Oh golly, yes. I do know you know. It feels so scary, doesn't it?

    Rubye Jack- Anger makes us feel more powerful too, doesn't it? Thank you for giving me hope that I shall become more attuned to aging. And for saying what you said about the flowers.

    Birdie- Ah- I picked the best. I did! They bring me so much joy.

    Elizabeth- You've just made me cry. And you know- I have felt like giving up today. I really have.
    Although what that would mean I have no idea.

    Janzi- It is good to hear from you! Well, I am trying to do just what you say. Thank you.

    Sweet Jo- Today has been a day when I am seriously considering asking for an antidepressant. This is no way to live a life. You are right.

  14. Dear Mrs. Moon,

    Hang in there. Things are out of whack for you right now, and I'm so, so sorry. I love you via your writing and your blog. Hold on, hold on. Sun's gonna come.

  15. On days like this, one breath at a time, one minute at a time. I love you so much.

  16. I would like to comment on Billy's blog but there is no Annonymous selection - do you know how I get around that? And if I seemed I was unfeeling in my earlier comment, I apologize. I just feel so bad that you have been hurting the way you have. I care about you. Sweet Jo

  17. Denise- I know. I swear. It's just hard to believe.

    Angella- And so it has gone. I love you so much too.

    Sweet Jo- NO! You did not sound unfeeling at all. And you have read my state of mind today.
    I got in touch with Billy. Anonymous comments are now allowed. He didn't know that was a thing.

  18. I love that last paragraph, the bird singing the rusty note. Fabulous.

    My only advice is, try not to turn the anger against yourself. Then it really has nowhere to go -- it just fuels that cycle. You feel what you feel, and you have no need to be apologetic or angry about it. The important thing is just to try to address it as best you can -- which may even mean just really FEELING it for a while until it subsides. (As it definitely will.)

    I know, easy for me to say.

  19. Sixty is a blessing. Every day is, really. That's why you feel like shit if you're miserable, at times. You know it's a blessing yet still you feel awful, which makes you feel worse.
    I hate the media. They think they are so awesome for showing one 62 year old in her undies. Big whoop. It makes me sick.
    I get mental when people walk through my dirt or on my wet floor when I'm cleaning. Like, I literally want to pummel them! I also hate cats that wake you up at 5:30 a.m. When you've been run off your ass with grandkids and need every second of sleep that life will allow.
    I should have blogged this.

  20. Steve Reed- Yes. You are right and thank you.

    heartinhand- That is exactly what stops me from getting a cat. Although I do like cats and like having them around, the thought of one waking me up at ANY time pisses me off too much and tips the balance.

  21. Well, no matter what, I am glad to be here. Haven't hit 60 yet but will get there soon enough. I am thinking that you might need to talk to the doc about some anti-anxiety meds--maybe some Klonopin. It has helped me to cope with my anxiety.


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