I. It’s been a while because, year-end and month-end and I have been dancing between yellow and red on this infographic. 
I keep having to remind myself that this isn’t *just a me thing*. This is *a we thing*. I’m not alone. Neither are you. It’s okay to not be okay.
Oh hey, Darling Human. It’s okay to not be okay.
II. Pretending we’re okay when we’re not okay actually makes things much, much worse. There is something to be said for ‘faking it until you make it’, sure, but that can’t be all we’re doing. We have to give ourselves time to be with ourselves in what is true for us. It’s a cha-cha, I think. Dance in, dance out.
III. My therapist thinks I’m somewhere between depressed and dissociated, and that’s okay. However I am is how I am right now. Dissociated and depressed is a perfectly reasonable response to *waves at all of this*. Reminding myself of this helps me shrug it off and do what needs doing to keep body and soul together.
IV. And yet, mostly, I am okay. I’m eating semi-regularly. I’m toting around a massive bottle of water and sipping from it all day every day. I’m making art. I’m sending newsletters. I’m meeting deadlines. I attend my therapy sessions. I go to bed when I’m tired. I get up when I’m ready. I take calculated risks, like having distanced fires at Kimi’s, like having Lee over for T.V. marathons, like getting a 2.5 hour deep tissue massage for the first time since January 2020 because my body is *broken* from all this stress.
V. Focusing as much as I can on the little things that are working. Journal Jams. Live painting sessions with my art witches. Coffee over Zoom with my nears and dears. This week, I brushed off my journal and started writing in it again. I resumed the daily tarot draw. (2 of Cups today, and I know what it’s about. #cryptogram). I’ve stopped sending letters into the void. I pour libations and light candles and say prayers instead. I buy every virtual concert that comes into my awareness. Marianas Trench. Billie Eilish. Rufus Wainwright. LP. Patty Griffin. I snuggle in with the dogs for naps. I’m opting for The West Wing over true crime or anything that might shred my nervous system. I’m taking in less news. I check this website once per day, and I watch The National every second day or so. I’ve cut way down on ordering in because Door Dash can’t get my address right and standing on the corner in my nightgown trying to wave down a delivery driver was making me very, very fucking cranky. I add a lot of heat and serve stuff to my grocery orders. I eat lasagna for days. Or cabbage rolls. Or shepherd’s pie. Anything comforting, including Ramen. I do the dishes in stages. I ignore the dust bunnies.
We do what we can.
Speaking of doing what I can, I painted this for The Darling Human Art Journaling Program, which is wrapping up in December. It’s being released as a standalone self-guided e-course, which you can sign up for here.
VI. Can I just remind us all here that we are allowed to feel sorry for ourselves when things fucking suck? Because I’m really irritated by toxic positivity right now. Looking on the bright side is all fine and good for some, but it feels like a spiritual bypass to me to ignore *waves at all of this* and declare the rightness and goodness of all things. I think this is how we got here in the first place. Ignoring all that’s wrong. Sweeping it under the rug. Denial. Sucking it up. Shoving it down.
I think what we’re seeing play out on a global level is a massive explosion of shadow.
Let’s acknowledge it, confront it, name it, and clear it.
Who’s with me? *Links Pinkies*
VII. Journal Jam #23 was really healing. You can watch the replay here.
VIII. I’m not over any of it, and I have people who have had this kind of grief who tell me I will probably never be ‘over it’. I believe them. that seems right to me. Some losses change us forever. They take root in us, like thorns in our sides, and we learn how to live with that, like an amputated limb.
I’m learning to live with that.
IX. It hurts because it mattered.
X. My heart is not a home for cowards. ~ d antoinette foy
I am always irritated by toxic positivity. I like authenticity.
Toxic positivity makes me wanna hurl.
what the heck is TOXIC positivity? is that negativity?
it disappeared… Of course! heart w u… it would be fun to laff and cry together. wait! that’s what we are doing… kinda 😏 sigh…
*Hugs*
Im between the yellow and orange line, wondering if I’ll ever make it back to green however I’m willing to admit I’m my own worst enemy at times. I have another chronic painful thing happening and I feel like I’ve been coping and working with one place or two others on this old body, but it’s mine and we work well together most days. Effy you are struggling and coping at the same time, I give you credit that you keep up with all that you do for your daily benefits plus what you give and share with us all. Strength my friend you show your strong side to us and your compassion and hopefully we don’t drain you as you are so needed by many. We are working side by side with this wonderful art community with darlin’ humans from all over the world….I think I met a Moon lady last week who was a lovely gal!! Hugs xo
I’m struggling with the whole ‘will I ever make it back to green’ place, too. <3 *Links pinkies*
Linked…!!
Love you. A giant hell yes to all of this. <3
Love you, too. <3
Effy, I’m not sure of your whole story as it relates to (what I think) is the end of a long-term relationship, but something at the end of this blog post resonated with me. A little bit about myself, I was married for 32 years to the man that I thought was the love of my life. I met him when I was 19 and married him when I was 20. In th 31st year of our marriage, he told me that “we were done.” When I say I didn’t see it coming at the time, I really didn’t see it coming. I always, always saw myself as a strong woman, but the end of my marriage, quite literally almost killed me. During the six months that I tried to save it, I turned into someone I didn’t recognize because of how much I loved my (now) ex-husband and my willingness to do anything to save what I thought we had.
All this being said, I changed profoundly. And I recognize that I will always love him. And further, I will always grieve the end of that relationship. And finally, it is possible to still grieve and move on.
Grief is not a linear process. At all. I am three years out and I have triggers. Oh Goddess, the triggers at time in which I inexplicably cry are the oddest scenes in movies, lyrics in songs, even new places.
Finally, this sentence in your blog post is what spoke to me: They take root in us, like thorns in our sides, and we learn how to live with that, like an amputated limb. I wrote a poem called “Amputation” at the end of my marriage.
Amputation
Apart of my heart has been amputated,
removed by the scalpel of his words,
leaving me wanting for the phantom
of our future that is no longer and never will be.
A part of my heart has been amputated,
it beats differently now, hurt, aching, betrayed,
a desperate want to feel the familiar,
yet knowing the past is no longer and never was.
A part of my heart has been amputated,
beating for what is, resilient, strong
embracing the beauty of my being,
living for now and for what will be.
Grace and love to you, dear Effy.
Thank you for the grace and love. <3 Your poem is beautiful.
Oh my god!!!! We must be twins!. My Mum has just passed away and my heart is hurting…really really hurting. Yet we try to put a brave face on when we see folk but inside Im broken…..not sure how I can ever be anything but broken. Last weekend I hit rock bottom….sobbed and sobbed for hours on the floor until I fell fitfully asleep on the floor. I had nothing left to give …you could definitely say I was in the red area. They’ve all gone now…My Mum and both of my Dads…time to be a grown up! Ive come back to my journal and my paints and inks and a sort of calm has entered my soul. Thank you for writing this post
Elaine, I am so sorry for your loss. <3 I'm glad you're using art to get you through the grief.
Waffling between yellow and orange here so I’m linking pinkies with you and if you don’t mind, Imma gonna hold on with all my might. And now I’m getting a bit teary because I feel seen and that’s not something that happens much.I’m tired. So tired of propping myself up. Love you with everything…xo
Seeing you and loving you. <3
“I think this is how we got here in the first place. Ignoring all that’s wrong. Sweeping it under the rug. Denial. Sucking it up. Shoving it down.”
Amen, sister.