Slim(ish), 60, and Mad

Hi Mom

Al, close up & personal (& in a tree)

Slim(ish), 60, and Mad

Hi Mom:

Yes, I’m still here, despite myself. Yes, I am (comparatively) slim again, thanks to the Depression Diet, and a lack of appetite. Feeling that I look like myself again: that is, the person I was pre meds.

So, what are you up to? I like to imagine you and Dad messing about & having fun together. Dad, have you taught her how to ride a bicycle yet? How is Taffy the dog? And the cats?

I chose the title, “Slim(ish) , 60, and Mad” because I wrote one titled “Fat , 50,& Mad” a few years back. At the time, both definitions of the word “mad” applied. These days, though, I’m mainly mad in the “box of frogs” sense, not the angry one. I am calm (most of the time), and happy. But not too happy.

Mom, you are a measuring stick of my froggy madness. If the only reference I make to you in a day is to say “Hi, Mom” to the picture of you – with one of our cats – then I’m doing well. If however I keep calling out to you, pleading for you – dead 7 years, and not the most empathetic of people – to somehow help me, it’s safe to say I am up shit creek, sans paddle.

I’m feeling extremely grateful at the moment, after a far too long period of anxiety, & depression. Grateful to the Beloved, for sticking it out & being there for me. Grateful that none of my friends appear to have written me off as too difficult to deal with. Grateful to the cat, whose death was unexpected, and who I still miss very much.

Grateful that I’m still alive, and that – here comes my vanity – I lost that weight. Please note, I am not suggesting that anyone try out the depression diet. Weight loss was the silver lining in some of the dark clouds which kept following me.

I’m using a new (to me) way of dealing with the three chattering monkeys of death, depression, & that old wheeze, anxiety. One day I need to devote the blog to what works for me & what doesn’t.

For now, once again it is writing, and the Beloved, who pulled me out of the bog of anxiety. I’m happy, but not too happy. I hope you smile as you read this. You have such a lovely smile.

Love you Mom,

Sheila

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About Sheila N

Enough about me. Art by Tom Brown.
This entry was posted in grief, Nostalgia, Uncategorized, Writing and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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