I made a cake for the daughter's birthday. A cake with "a unicorn and an owl being friends. And hearts. Lots and lots of hearts." I used 2 kinds of frosting... a tasty cream cheese frosting to cover the cake and then some semi-edible mini-marshmallow fondant that I could shape into... well, shapes.
The cream cheese stuff was really great until it crusted over. Then it was only kind of okay. And the marshmallow stuff was just always kinda gross and crusted over. Sickly sweet. Frosting isn't my thing. In fact, I far prefer pies. Or steamed chocolate pudding with butter sauce... the holidays are upon us. I'm not ready. I don't have gifts. The house is a mess. We got a tree. It is plopped in the corner all puffed up like a bird fluffling up its feathers to stay warm in the winter. Or just to proudly announce its presence. I am bigger than I am. Look at me. I guess I have a few gifts. And yet I am not in a panic. I have been noticing lately that I am very calm when I think I would have been panicking in the past. And it seems like it should be a good thing. You know, who wants to panic? The night before the art show where I had my stuff I was completely unprepared and I was a bit nervous, sure. But it didn't feel visceral. Not how I'm used to it feeling. Now this lack of preparation? Meh. I am not even totally panicked about being officially observed at work. Part of that is probably that my co-teacher is VERY calm about the observation process. "They'll see what they see," she shrugs. This is not anhedonia. I do feel pleasure in things. I do enjoy and look forward to things like concerts and movies and art shows... I do have the usual amount of dread at family gatherings. Okay, looking forward to that, too. Just the dread of being over-peopled for several days running. At least I'll have a few weeks to regain my equilibrium. But I think I miss some of that depth of feeling that came with the panic. Not the panic, mind you. But there is something like being open and feeling deeply and passionately and in a way that is different from this. Except I think that comes with all the crap of being Down or being Up. Is this like an addict missing what it felt like? That intensity? Fear not, I am not in any danger of going off my meds just to see if I can chase that "high." I don't want to chase it. Or catch it. I wouldn't even describe it as a high, per se. Just... depth. A deeper pool of emotion. Higher highs and lower lows even. A fresher, more complete palette. Instead of just... this. I frosted a cake with whipped cream once. And it was really good as long as you ate it RIGHT AWAY before the whipped cream lost its oomph and soaked into the cake and just became a kind of glorified sour milk. Then it totally sucked. In meeting today I had a song in my head. It very nearly rose to the level of vocal ministry, but not quite. There's a song by Over The Rhine (who I adore) called "Long Lost Brother." I usually listen to it as a kind of broken-hearted song this woman is singing to/about a person that is not good for her, but that she cannot give up. So tell me your troubles Let your pain rain down I know my job I’ve been around I invest in the mess I’m a low cost dumping ground But today, for some reason, I imagined it as a song being sung to... someone by... for lack of a better term: god. I thought that we’d be Further along by now I can’t remember how We stumbled to this place I loved you like a long lost brother On a bad day maybe I thought why bother I’ve seldom seen so much anger In a face Imagined a deity looking on this mess that we are constantly making of things. And the inability to live together without regular disasters. And the song kind of stayed with me. And the idea. I don’t mean to laugh out loud I’m trying to come clean Trying to shed my doubt Maybe I should just keep My big mouth shut More often than not When it comes to you You want whatever’s not in front of you Deep down I know this includes me too And then back to frosting. That I have not been able to remain open... some part of the depth of feeling must be hardened off... if I am to last. The trick is not to become some dreadful bit of marshmallow fondant. Which no doubt will last forever, but who will care. Trouble is I’m so exhausted The plot, you see, I think I’ve lost it I need the grace to find what can’t be found I wanna do better I wanna try harder I wanna believe Down to the letter Jesus and Mary Can you carry us Across this ocean Into the arms of forgiveness Ugh. This is terribly maudlin. And I don't feel terribly maudlin. Just a bit floaty and detached. Grateful crap: high school swim team Equatorial Actions: meds 200 mg lamotrigine spoke at middle school panel on mental health spoke with people at meeting about mental health Comments are closed.
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K. BuchananQuaker, teacher, parent, |