Let it be.

(from Across the Universe)

A friend of mine is going through a rough time right now, and posted the above video on her site. I’ve been thinking about the past 7 weeks and the depression, and how bad it got. I’ve been thinking about all the things that I thought I was depressed about.

I’ve been thinking about the past, and some hard things that I’ve gone through. I’ve been thinking about things I wish I could change, things I wish I never did, things I wish  that I could just forget. I’ve been thinking about hurt, and people, and friendships lost. I’ve been thinking about things that I wish I had known regarding my health, and wishing I had done something earlier in my life to prevent some of the hardships that having a chronic disease comes with. I wish I weren’t so stubborn at the times I could have made changes, to have done so.

I was thinking about how I wish I could shout words of truth from the rooftops. How I wish that justice would come to those who need it, and that reward would come to the good guys, and just punishment to the bad guys. I was thinking about how I lost religion, faith, and a sense that anyone, but me was taking care of destiny, and how that has become strangely empowering. I’ve thought about friends who I often forget to call on. I’ve been thinking about the people that I truly loved, who still walk this Earth, who are no longer a part of my life, because life simply is not fair. I’ve thought a lot about the people I left behind at the church, and how sometimes, despite that I could do nothing else, I feel that I left them, not the other way around. I’ve felt that if I could just tell them the truth of how and why I left their lives, they would love me once again. At the same time, I’ve thought that this truth would destroy something, as it did for me.

I’ve been thinking about people I will never talk to again, people who have passed on, people who taught me so much, people that I wish I could have held onto for a few more seconds. I was thinking about the day my Granny died, and how I held her hand in a hospital, vowing to her that I would do every thing I could not to die the way she had to, from diabetes, and vowing to always watch over my mom. I would like to think that at the very least, I’ve kept one of those promises, and I’m working like hell on the other. I’ve been thinking about my brother who is overseas, who I can’t talk to every day, who I miss terribly, and how we spent so many years not knowing how much we loved being siblings. I’ve been thinking about my husband and all that he goes through having a wife with a chronic disease, how he has never been sure exactly what he will come home to, how scared he must feel when my diabetes is out of control and there doesn’t seem to be any answers. I’ve been thinking that I am fighting harder than ever, because of him, because of how much I love and adore him.

I’ve been thinking about how much we decide who we are. How much power we have in this life. How much we at a moments will can decided to change, every thing. I’ve been thinking about how assuring that feels. I’ve been thinking that up until recently I did not know how strong I was or could be, how I didn’t have to take life sitting down, and waiting for it to happen to me, but I could happen to my life. That at any moment I can make choices and decisions that will positively impact my being on this planet. That I can not rely on other people to do this for me, or other people to validate me, or other people to open doors. I am perfectly capable of kicking doors down if necesary. I’ve been thinking about how when I give myself a moment to rest in it all, a moment to soak it all in, a moment to reflect, that I can see beauty in all that surrounds me. I can see how life is working out, and how it could work out. I can see how each choice I make will have a certain effect on what my future looks like, and the legacy I leave behind. I’ve been thinking that when I have nothing in my way, that I can be unstoppable. I’ve been thinking to let the past be, that all of what I’ve done, my mistakes, my regrets, my losses, all of them have lead me to this exact moment in time, in which I take the reigns and do whatever it is I can to be fully engaged and in charge of this life I have. The past, is just that, and the future is unknown, but I know what I have right now, and what I can do with it. I now know that I don’t have to wait for a sign, or a answer, but those answers are there for me to have and do something with. I no longer have to determine the will of something not there, but only my own, to find my place in this planet, to find a peace with in myself.

And all of those things that keep me awake some nights, all of those things of the past, perhaps the answer is to let them be.

“Time is free, but it’s priceless. You can’t own it, but you can use it. You can’t keep it, but you can spend it. Once you’ve lost it you can never get it back.”

This Old Soul.

Dancing circles

Originally uploaded by natalamc

It was 5th grade that I came to the realization that I could be considered by many as weird. This realization at first devastated me, as being part of the norm tends to be the safest way to live your pre-pubescent years.
The moment that I realized that I was not like any of my friends, or classmates came to fruition in one very vivid moment in music class. My music teacher was considered to be the coolest teacher, ever. He wore blue jeans and button down shirts to school, and he had long curly, unruly hair that he would sometimes tie back with a rubber band. Every one of my classmates looked forward to his class. We didn’t sing the typical songs, no, instead Mr.Casey had us singing “Proud Mary” as well as songs from Queen, Paula Abdul, and Tina Turner.
For me, this was an introduction into what it meant to be cool. Because, very clearly, I was not cool. All of the songs we would sing were at least somewhat familiar to my classmates, but for me, on the other hand they were completely unfamiliar. My tastes were much, well let’s just say, more refined.
It was one day in class that Mr.Casey went around the room and asked us who our favorite singer was, that all of my awkwardness with my peers would come to make complete sense. Being in 5th grade, I did not think to lie, and copy one of the more popular names going around the room… I could have easily blurted out “Michael Jackson” or “Madonna” but no, instead in my 5th grade brain, I believed that all of my classmates had surely heard of my favorite singer.
Connie Francis.
I said it and remember the raised eyebrow of Mr.Casey and a crooked smile. And him saying, with a chuckle “I think that is my Grandma’s favorite singer too!”
A few laughs followed, and we went on to my other classmates who loved Whitney Houston, Bon Jovi, and Prince.
And I sat there wondering why no one had ever heard of Connie Francis.
It did not occur to me that throw back singers to the 1950’s were not exactly on Z100’s most requested songs. And while my classmates knew every lyric to “Thriller” and “Opposites Attract”, I on the other hand could sing word for word “Lipstick on his collar” and “Everybody’s somebody’s fool”.
I went home that day, looking through my records. Yes, records. I had an old record player, at my Grandma’s house, which was where we were living at the time. I could not understand why Frank Sinatra, Bing Crosby, and The Dorsey Brothers were not popular with my friends.
And I would soon find out it didn’t just stop there. My favorite movies included “Hello Dolly” (so much so, that I wanted to be Barbra Streisand for Halloween one year), “An American in Paris” and “a Street Car Named Desire” . Not until that day in music class did I think that this might not be what the rest of my friends were watching.
We didn’t have TV, and the only time aside from old movies that I watched anything at all, was watching “Bob Ross” painting videos. My Grandma and I would watch him every day, and we’d paint.. happy little trees.
I wasn’t watching “Alf” or “The Wonder Years”. I was watching Bob Ross paint, and old black and whites, an the occasional musical.
This would remain to be my life through out my pre-teens and my teens, and even followed me into college.
On paper, and with out knowledge that I was a 5th grade girl, one might mistake me for a gay man or a 70 year old woman. But yet, there I was, an 11 year old girl, living in NY, loving the old Italian-American singers, and watching painting videos with my Grandmother. Even when I had the chance to be different, I never really was. There, even through my teens was this realization that all of it made me different.
When I was in middle school, it was the New Kids On The Block who were insanely popular. It was at this time in which I was feeling the biggest need to fit in. Middle School is hell enough, but for someone who could not tell you any of the New Kids names, it was even more so. The biggest question as a middle school girl, was “Who is your favorite New Kid”?” Girls lockers were plastered with pictures, and big hearts around faces, proclaiming their love for one of them. I decided I needed a favorite, and while assisting my friends in writing postcards to a radio station, in order to be in a drawing to have the New Kids come to your school, I looked over at one of girls post cards, and read “Danny”, and that would then be the one I “Liked the most”. This would have been fine, except as it turns out, Danny was the “ugly one” and the one no teenage girl liked. Just my luck. And when people would question this I would tell them that he was “under appreciated” and that he was “mysterious”. This got my strange looks and a few laughs, but seemed to detract attention away from the fact, I HAD NO CLUE who any of them were. And when on my 13th birthday I received a New Kids on the Block pillow case set? I stared at it blankly until my friend, Francesca piped up “Now you can sleep next to all of them every night!!!”. This, made absolutely no sense to me. Why would I want to rest my head on the faces on a boy band?
As I matured, I accepted my weirdness and my lack of knowledge of the popular culture, and thought of myself as unique, and happily pretentious when it came to the what good music and good entertainment truly was.
I lined my bedroom with pictures of dead composers, and records of the “Rat Pack” and “Paolo Conte”. I talked endlessly to elderly people, and spent most of my teen years volunteering in a nursing home, where I could sit down with any of the residents and chat about the good old days, and Jimmy Stewart, and Grace Kelly. I was what they would call me, an “old soul”, and I loved every moment of it. While my friends were roller skating and at the mall, I was listening to Bing Crosby on an old record player, in a nursing home room, with Joe, a 90 year old man with Alzheimer’s, except when it came to Bing, and Connie, that he remembered every detail of.
I once danced to old swing music, with a man in his 90’s named Paul, who once danced with Ginger Rogers. And, I thought this was far more intriguing then getting a chance to catch a glimpse of a pop icon at a rock concert.
And I suppose, that while part of me regrets missing the 80’s, and most of the 90’s, and all of it’s pop culture, the other part of me? It completely loves that I, as a generation X-er grew up in the 40’s and 50’s, and my old soul is forever grateful .

All things considered.

Painting in the sky.

Originally uploaded by natalamc

That relief I spoke of in my last post? It all makes sense now. So, about 6 weeks ago I was put on this medicine. The medicine is for a diabetic condition in my feet. The same medicine is used to treat some forms of epilepsy and severe bi-polar. The same medicine is also under a law suit, and being considered by the FDA to be taken off the market because it causes (in a lot of people) SEVERE depression. As in, a lot of people on this medicine have either committed suicide or have attempted it.

Suffice it to say, when I accidentally did not refill this prescription on Sunday of last week, I did not know I would unlock a lot of why I was feeling so down for the past several weeks. That day I felt relief (the day of my post) I had gone to the pharmacy to refill the prescription and when I looked at the bottle, a NEW warning pops up on the bottle about experiencing worsening feelings of sadness, depression of fear. That would have been much more helpful 6 weeks ago when I started taking it. Turns out, that relief was because I was off the medicine for 4 entire days.

I was so angry about it all yesterday. I try, as much as possible to keep things together, but now that I’m past it, and I know what was going on I can say that the last few weeks were miserable. And particularly the last 2 weeks, when things seemed to be particularly bad. As in I did not want to leave my house, and I would randomly start crying (which if you know me, I NEVER do). I was starting to feel kind of like a shell of myself. And I wasn’t telling many people (except my husband) because I really thought I was going crazy.

Granted, I think that there are certain things that came up in all of this that I should examine and look closely at.. Maybe some of it really does need to be dealt with, maybe I have buried some anger/sadness that I need to cognitively work through.

The Church stuff – I am still angry about. I do not see how I could not be. Yet, I also know there is just not much I can do. The truth will come out, and like most Churches that decided to cover up scandal, I’m guessing it will vanish, and be another on a casualties list of another religious institution gone wrong. But, I’m okay with moving on, and knowing that church, as a part of my life is now far behind me, and not part of who I am, or what makes me, me.

And all of those other things I thought about in the past few weeks – I’m guessing are not as severe as I had felt. Just because I “feel” something does not necessarily mean it is true.

I do know a few things after this.

1. I HATE having diabetes. I would do ANYTHING to not have it. I just ordered a book that talks about an alternative/natural way to cure diabetes. It is hardcore. As in I am not sure if I’ll ever enjoy food again. But I really could care less, because diabetes is not worth the taste of any food. ANY.
I contemplated becoming a diabetes evangelist, I could go door to door and tell people about diabetes, I could hand out little tracks and every thing. I would rid their houses of every thing that increases the risks of diabetes – no corn syrup, diet sodas, cigarettes, cake or white breads and pastas! I would then show them pictures of people with diabetes, young people, old people. And then the bills that come with it.
That is my plea to you. Especially if you have a history of diabetes, if are with any African decent, Hispanic or Italian (all are much more susceptible). If you carry any belly fat (I mean who doesn’t, but particularly if it is in your belly) The fat in the belly causes problems with your pancreas. If you smoke (causes insulin to die and raises blood sugar). And if you are an American – there is something like 3 million people that go un-diagnosed. And I can tell you, that nothing is worth having it.
There is my soap box on diabetes – and now I am stepping off.

2. (I still have a list of things I know now)
I have AWESOME friends that chat with my online. With out knowing that I wasn’t doing so well, 2 of my friends in particular helped me A LOT. And I watched A LOT of TV episodes and was able to zone out and focus on that, instead of the depression.
My friend L even had MAJOR drama in her life (her ex boyfriend being an ASS), and I was able to (I hope) help her through that. I mean, I know she didn’t have drama just to help me out, but if you knew L, you might think that she is just that kind of friend who would do that if you needed it.
And my friend M who one night talked to me for like 5 hours, 5! This was while my husband was in Canada, and M has no idea how much I needed to just talk to someone. I think that some friends, have a 6th sense about these sorts of things. And what makes a friend, not just a friend, but a soul friend. I may not believe in god, but I do believe that I am tremendously lucky to have M in my life now (a new friend of sorts) although it feels as though we have been friends forever.

3. My husband is the WORLDS BEST HUSBAND. My husband sees all of it – the good the bad, the really, really, really bad. And I don’t know what I would do if it wasn’t just okay to cry in a puddle in his arms, for seemingly NO reason, at all. Regardless of how I am feeling he tries to put a smile on my face, and this is how the world should operate. Imagine if our goals in life were to put smiles on other peoples faces?

4. I miss creativity, and starting today, I am going to make efforts to immerse myself in creativity once again.

5. I LOVE to work out. Seriously, I know it might sound ridiculous, but when I go to the gym, I leave feeling amazing. I feel proud of myself, I feel like I am being taken care of, that people really care about how I’m doing, what I’m doing, how I’m feeling. I love the feeling of moving my body and feeling alive. I love for a part of the day, that I don’t feel my weight, I don’t feel that I am obese, I feel like someone who is working hard to become healthy. This is why, I am making a commitment to find time and energy to go to the gym EVERY day. Because there is no medicine that can make me feel that good.

6. Despite how I might have felt for the past 6 weeks – my life is truly wonderful.