OK, this is hard

There is this feeling sometimes, maybe you have been there. The feeling like you are just beyond the crashing waves, kicking and swinging your arms as hard as you can, and not getting any closer to the shore.

I don't even believe in reincarnation, but sometimes I feel like I must have really screwed up in a past life. I really try. I mean, I'm not perfect, but I get up and do what I can each day and try to be be kind. But it is just always so hard.

And see, I get it, on that other level.  I understand that a big part of this feeling is what it is to live with a certain level of depression and anxiety. It isn't really that bad right now, but it always just that little part of who I am that sometimes I just want to run away. And I know I have to confront those feelings, because the next feeling will be that it would be better if I could just die.

And these are the feelings that are the hardest to talk about. People say the stupidest things when you talk about the whole subject of suicide. I have been thinking about that a lot this week for some reason, the things that people have said to me over the years that have made it harder to be open about what is happening with me.

Like, the first thing I remember was being maybe 9 or 10, and someone telling me that if you try to kill yourself and live, you can be arrested for attempted murder. I mean, I heard something recently about how that used to be true, but can you imagine? As if life isn't already so hard, your are also now a criminal?

And there are so many ways that suicide is romanticized. The dramatic swallowing pills or slitting wrists and being a very pretty dead person and everyone cries. So we get really weird ideas. People say people who try to kill themselves are just looking for attention or want people to feel sorry for them. Here is some truth; pills can make you barf and choke and trying to cut your wrists hurts like hell and you really need to know what you are doing. Men are more successful at actually killing themselves because they are more likely to use a gun or hang themselves.  But it isn't for attention. It is for escape from emotional pain.

Now there's the platitudes. There are the things people say to try to fix a sad friend. people say go get counseling. It isn't that easy. When you struggle financially and you struggle with shame and you struggle with talking about the things the matter most, that becomes one more impossible hill to climb.

And I'm ok right now, just really tired and feeling a bit overwhelmed. But someone I don't really know except on Facebook had a really bad day last week and posted his way through how bad it was and how impossible that mountain was feeling. And it sounded really bad and I'm worried about him, but he is in another city and I don't really know him.

And if I had the ability to go and hug people and drive them to do what they need to do, I would be able to do it for myself.

But the most toxic part about these feelings is the shame and fear that keeps us from even talking about it honestly. This is really a hard thing to explain, but I need to try anyway. When it is bad, the things people say to try to make it better feel somehow attacking, and I don't even know why it feels that way. Even if this isn't what they say, it sounds like they are saying you are stupid to even think this way. and when you are already feeling stupid and in the way and the problem, then calling that out as not true somehow makes if feel even more true with a big dose of embarrassment.

So, I'm not sure what I hoped to accomplish by writing about this tonight. But if yo are reading this and you know the feelings I'm trying so badly to explain, well, I'm here and I care. that mountain may be feeling impossible right now, I get that. I hope we can find a way to have better conversations about finding a path that will let us keep climbing.

March 9th soup

I am known, within a limited circle, for some good soup. This one did not start out looking like it would be one, but now my family is insisting that I write it down so we can make it again. I will try.

It was a dark and windy evening and a needed project was running overtime. Nobody wanted to go out and food needed to be ready for the ravenous herd in a very short time. So I said "what do we have?" Michelle and I rummaged through the fridge and cupboards and an idea of what would go with what.

Well, there was a lb of good bulk sausage left, so I started browning it. Michelle found some frozen onions and I stated browning them in the bottom of a soup pot. When the onions were starting to brown I added about 4 cups water and two Knorr chicken bullion cubes. I threw in three handfuls of frozen broccoli florets and the sausage. I also added some bouquet garni  seasoning and a few grinds of Trader Joe's everyday seasoning.

Next came the cans. Stay with me now. A can of cheddar cheese soup and a can of bean with bacon soup. Yes, really, I wanted to fill up some hungry people. When everything was all cooking down good together, I glugged in a bit of heavy cream, probably a half cup or more, I didn't measure anything really. Then I threw in a few scoops of rice leftover from lunch. I had to use a spoon to break it up, which broke up the now cooked broccoli into smaller pieces at the same time. I finished it with two small grabs of shredded cheese.

Megan tasted it and said it was good, but too thick, so she added some water. I guess soupy soup is a thing. I tend to end up making quite thick ones.

And great rejoicing was heard in the land. Even picking teenage Ellie had some. Of course Damien didn't, but he lives of milk and crackers - some french fries when he can get them.

And Michelle said that we should call this March the 9th soup and let the day be celebrated every year on this date. So I had to record the creation of the glorious, night before grocery shopping soup so that it can be a thing.

But only God and the kitchen gnomes know if it will ever come together quite the same again.