I’ve decided to finally get serious about my blog and use it the way it was meant to be used.
I’m starting by copying all my old posts over, dating them properly so they’re chronologically correct. It’s going to be a big job but it will be worth it. I’ve copied over about a dozen stories/poems/articles today so it’s a start.
I tried using the import feature but it doesn’t appear to work, probably because the old blog isn’t hosted anywhere, it’s just archived.
Anyway, when I’m all done it’ll be a job well done and I can truly get writing again, which I’ve wanted to do for a long time.
Is it “two steps forward, one step back” or “one step forward, two steps back” ?
Today it feels like the latter.
So here I am after almost a month of debating how to really start the new blog. I guess I should explain.
First of all, when I had the old blog I often neglected it if I was feeling rough. Although blogging about things that were bothering me was therapeutic it sometimes took me quite a while to put thoughts down on paper (sort of) if I was going through a difficult time. It was like I had to sort things out in my mind first. Also, I was often hesitant to write about certain things because, well, you never know who could be reading.
But here’s the thing, or things. For one, my son got me this blog because he wanted me to start writing again. I was fairly good at it, and it was an outlet when I needed one. Also, when I finally got around to putting my thoughts down I usually felt better.
So here it is, and whoever is reading can think what they want. I went through a rough patch last spring and winter. Things got bad, and then they got worse and one day I woke and decided I wanted to kill myself. It seemed like the answer to all my problems. And the more I thought about it the more I wanted to do it, until I would lie awake for hours at night thinking about it. And it just seemed to make so much sense. Yeah, I would leave people behind and they would feel pain but my pain would be over. No more fighting against the current, no more feeling so totally unmanned I might as well put a skirt on in the morning, no more sitting in the dark for hours crying and praying for a heart attack because I didn’t have the “guts” to do it myself (although I was getting there). And the feeling of despair is simply overwhelming at that point. I’ve been through a few rough patches in my life (who hasn’t) but this was different because it went on relentlessly. Interestingly too (and I discussed this with a counselor) I was not only feeling like I wanted to die but also convincing myself that it was the best thing to do. I was trying to talk myself into it. When I asked the counselor if it was possible to talk yourself into committing suicide she assured me it is.
Fast forward a few months. What’s changed ? Well, I don’t want to kill myself anymore. Some of the issues that led to me feeling that way remain and I’m dealing with them (in my own way). I’ve been on medication for a while and it seems to have helped. I laugh again and last weekend, for the first time in months, I decided to do something constructive around the house (for a long time I simply didn’t care and would have been perfectly happy if the place had burnt to the ground; not my family, I love them deeply, but the house itself).
As to the issues that led to me feeling the way I did, I won’t discuss them here, at least not right now. But who knows, maybe one of these days.
As an aside, I’ve gotten into photography over the last few years, but even that fell by the wayside for a while because I couldn’t see the beauty in anything.
Don’t go outside or your skin will fry
And when you get home you’ll sit and cry
It’s so damn hot you can’t get a breath
And every movement feels like death
Stay inside where the air is cool
Or visit a friend with a swimming pool
Just don’t stay in the sun too long
And wear something bigger than a thong !
First and foremost I want to thank my son Marc for the great Father’s Day gift. I’ve been saying for some time that I miss blogging and want to get back into it. As he pointed out in his post I always enjoyed it and it was very therapeutic. Whether I was blogging about fun stuff, not so fun stuff or just composing a little ditty or posting a picture of something that caught my eye it was my thing, the thing I did just for me. I also made lots of blogging friends back in the day and I like to think maybe I made a few people laugh or cry or just think a little.
Anyway, I’m excited to be back in the tree house. Now to put a pot of coffee on in case company shows up.
Cheers and Happy Father’s day.
p.s. I included links to the old tree house and to my Flickr account in the sidebar. You have to give the tree house a minute to load as it has to go through a few hoops.
p.p.s. I’m still figuring stuff out so if things don’t work the way you think they should please let me know.
I couldn’t think of a better thing to get a man with such a deep soul then something he’s been longing to have back. Something that will bring both peace and serenity, while also inspiring a new wave of creativity… and it can’t hurt that it’s therapeutic as well.
This may be a little early, but when I thought about it last night and realized exactly what I wanted to get you, I knew I had to do it soon.
In time, this blog will become your new home, one that will feel comfortable and as if it had always been there.
Happy Father’s Day, Dad
George was a lovely little stuffed bear but he had been living at Wiggin’s Toy Store for years. It wasn’t so much that nobody wanted him but rather that he was well hidden on the top shelf.
Several years earlier, when Fred Wiggins had gotten the bear from the wholesaler he had put him on a shelf out in the open but one day little Jimmy Arsenault came in, saw the bear, and had a vision. Jimmy was famous for his visions. He told Fred that the bear was meant for someone special and Fred shouldn’t sell it. Fred believed Jimmy so he moved George to a high shelf near the back of the store and hid him behind some other toys. Fred figured this way few people would spot George but if someone did, hopefully it would be that special child.
George remained hidden on the top shelf for several years, and when Jimmy Arsenault grew up and got married he and his wife bought Fred Wiggin’s toy store because Jimmy had a vision when he was a teenager that he was destined to take the store over.
Fred and his wife were quite happy running the store. The only dark cloud in their life was that they couldn’t have any children but they’d had their names on an adoption list for a few years and hadn’t given up hope.
One night in early September the toy store burnt to the ground. The following day when the firefighters sifted through the ashes the only thing they found was George. The little bear smelled of smoke but was otherwise unharmed.
Jimmy and his wife were not to be deterred from their dream so they rebuilt the store and soon George was back on a shelf, safely hidden away.
Then one day Jimmy and his wife got a call from the adoption people. At last a child, Jacky by name, had come up for adoption. And imagine their surprise when they were told that the young boy in question, just three years old, had recently lost his parents in a fire.
A few days later, when they met Jacky for the first time, Jimmy handed him the bear and said “I believe this little fella was meant for you.”