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Hold on to what is good even if it is a handful of earth.
Hold on to what you believe even if it is a tree which stands by itself.
Hold on to what you must do even if it is a long way from here.
Hold on to life even when it is easier letting go.
Hold on to my hand even when I have gone away from you.
- Pueblo Blessing

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Saturday, Oct. 30, 2004 - 4:41 a.m.

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Halloween Wenchie, Verdun and Depression

Mmmm, happy early halloween!

I am sitting here with the dregs of my makeup on from going out to Mroow Mix , an evening for Bent Girls and their Buddies...

a cabaret and then dancing event that happens perhaps once a month.

Blame it on the weird long-Halloween this year... ie TrickorTreating on Sunday night, and parties on both Fridays and Saturday nights... this year's Mroow Mix costume party was underattended... probably half what it was a year or two ago.

And who knew that "cabaret including some country and bluegrass" meant that there was a cowboy theme? hmmm... well, cowboy on dykes is rather boring... they wear jeans and plaid shirts, and that is not that far off from reality. Though there was a whole slew of cowboy hats, in everything from "real cowboy" to pink leopard leatherette. Personally, I had to forgo my great idea of escapee from a shotgun wedding (white wedding dress with blood stains around crotch level, frenzied hair, and a bloody coathanger and maybe even a bloody fetus... you get the picture: a little bun in the oven, Dad insists on a wedding, little bride does a home job so she can get out of the wedding... a bit morbid but it's halloween eh!) due to lack of funds for the wedding dress. So I went as a Pirate Wench... yeah been there done that (where did you think I got the wenchie moniker from eh!)... but I knew i had all the goods and I hadn't done it in town before. Though last time I did it I gelled my hair up in stiff spikes, and I couldnt see biking across town at 3C with that sort of hairdo. I couldn't wear my helmet (thus risking death for a halloween costume!) or a hat (thus risking freezing my ears to death). So I wore my black and green striped tuque, which I personally think looked rather piratey, and it went with my green skirt (hitched up to show off my stripey stockings!).

Photos to follow of course, unless they just don't turn out.

Anyhews, it was a fun evening. One friend was dressed as Poison Ivy (yeah she's cute and femme, and had ivy twisted about her), and l'Ecrivaine went as a perfume vendor. I forget what brand... it .
was a chic sort of pink dress tunic she got in Chicago when she was there for a drag king convention recently. She even had perfume, and cool large-knit fishnets. Fun, and so "L'Ecrivaine"

I got tired and too much cigarette smoke, so left the party about 1:30, and took myself out for a bambino (child's) pizza and a coffee and read the French newsweekly... which I believe has better articles than its english equivalent. The journalism is better, there is more investigation, meatier topics, better writing. They even went to Bush's hometown to interview the editors of his hometown paper who wrote an editorial supporting Kerry (they say they regret having supported Bush in the past election because of what he's done the past 4 years). Unfortunately they have gotten a lot of backlash from the town itself. That is sad.

Anyhews. the pizza was hot and tomatoeycheesie, which is what I wanted. (I allowed myself a treat cuz I discovered a $20 bill on the floor at the start of the party, and turned it into the barmaid, and she said if no one mentioned losing the money she'd give it to me. Yay! She said I was bogglingly honest. hmm. Seems just normal to me.)

And when I got home I forgot that I hadn't walked my doggy before going out. So had to do that, all dressed up.

The trees are absolutely gorgeous. Masses of yellow leaves lit by the streetlamps... there hasn't been much wind nor rain and thus the colored leaves are lasting longer and not falling. So they look like yellow snowflurries frozen in midair. Wonderful and make me smile.

Hmm, right now on the radio they are talking about people who are very active and have busy social lives and very productive. They are saying that often people like this, very active and busy, have depression, and a deep sense of sadness... that it is an attempt to fight the depression.

HAHAHA I have been found out. Yes, that is very true. Depression related to stress, feelings of loss related to childhood, chemical imbalances in the brain. "People who suffer it are told to pull themselves together and do something about it, and some people actually cure themselves of depression by becoming active". HAHA. Yes, depression runs in my family. My grandmother, my mother, my uncle are all on antidepressives. My brother killed himself. I missed school due to depression in highschool.

And what do I do? I make sure that when I notice I feel like disengaging, I push myself to engage. That I true to do things that make me want to be awake and alive and open and interested in life. To look around me at things like leaves and flowers (a macro lense is very good...
hard to walk around in a cloud of not seeing the world if you look through a macro lense). To see people instead of walking past them blindly... to notice things like the wonderful striped blue and mauve knit gloves with buttons up the wrists that a woman had tonight on the street, and then tell the woman how lovely her gloves are... a reason to engage in the world, to give a smile and get one back.

Anyways, it is interesting that someone is doing a study on this.


Do you know I am very attracted to happily engaged in the world people who have deep sadness? Yes. Sad eyes. Yes.

Funny, ob told me that the year before we met (and before she met her Mme) that she had no reason to smile. And when she was a kid she didn't smile for a whole year.

Do you know that when I have too much routine that I get very very sleepy and just do the bare minimum, and feel like a narcoleptic? That I then sleep on the bus, or between jobs or while babysitting kids, or while waiting on the student I'm teaching to do their work? youch. I really need to be stimulated and interested in new things or I disconnect and shut down and sleeeeeeeep. yuck.

The other side is feeling driven or stressed when I dont have enough to do... when I feel like I SHOULD be doing something, and feel too anxious to relax and enjoy it. That is how I was feeling in September this year.

Well, I will think about that at another time. But I do think that they are right that the activity can be "fighting depression"... I know in myself it is a conscious learned behaviour so that I don't end up on meds like my mom or dead like my bro. I HAVE asked my doctor and therapists about it and they think that although I do have some bipolar symptoms I am definitely within normal limits and not actually anything close to ill. (tho when I was diagnosed with infertility and lost a relationship and my mom moved all the same summer, my doctor did write "situational depression" in my file and made me go to the (very nice) therapist).

Mmmm, now they are saying exercise is best for depression... weights is good apparently. Isn't that interesting. When I was a young adult and stopped being a depressed teenager, I
started doing weights. I wonder if that is a factor in me doing ok in life. very interesting.

(see what happens when it is 5am and I listen to the radio as I make an entry?) oops! i also forgot I uploaded photos from the walk in Verdun with l'Ecrivaine and my father. I will put them in the entry soon.

Hmm, yesterday I had a bad night... feeling socially rejected in the park, something totally nebulous and not even a particular incident, but it lead to feeling really shit about myself. But I did the sort of thing I'd say was "actively fighting" it... I called a really old friend (20yrs plus) and asked her to say something nice about me (even if she had to lie)... she laughed and said "I don't need to lie, you are one of the best people I know, a really good person, someone I can rely on, someone who sticks around and I can trust. Yeah, you are one of the really good people in the world". Wow. And she did point out that our relationship has had our ups and downs but that I am a real friend. That's cool.

Anyways. Reaching out. My brother who killed himself was the absolute sheer shits at reaching out. People who don't know to or won't reach out when they are doing badly and need support scare me. They are the ones who won't survive.

Anyways. I am a survivor. I really am.

Hugs to you all.
da pirate
in stripey socks
and bloomers

ps, all photos from along the St. Lawrence Seaway in Verdun. Copyright 2004 Wench77

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previous meanderings - future past

Goodbye Michael. May your next life be kinder to you. - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Taking Care of Your Cows - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Saint Joseph robs the cradle and eats spaghetti - Sunday, Jun. 14, 2009
sticky notes and broken irises - Friday, Jun. 12, 2009
The FOODCOMMANDER - Monday, Jun. 08, 2009

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