ow

"Who hurt you?"
"I did."
"Why don't you stop?"

how
how do i not be me?
how do i change
everything
that i fundamentally
know
about myself
in an effort to be
healthy

giving in to my brain's demands

Confession:  I don't always follow my own rules.  Case in point, writing things in my head doesn't get them anywhere else.  (Yes, I did just link an old as fuck post that happened to be my first entry here.)

I've been in a garbage headspace lately.  Super surprising, I know 🙄  But I have been writing.  Thing is, it seems my brain is only interested on writing halfass notes on things I want/need to write, but is fully here for poetry.

As part of my brain's ransom demands I was forced to start a new instagram account (mostly) focusing in this...poem writing endeavor...thing.

Which I promptly ran away from. Again, I know you're just shocked at that behavior.

Honestly, though, fuck it.  If it makes my brain quit yammering at me, maybe it'll also send a little dopamine and serotonin my way.  I could definitely use it.

Weighting

I always cringe when I see people who have staunch determinations of losing weight.  I know this is A Thing in Jan & Feb (all related to that new year's resolution nonsense); this pseudo-health kick that rarely lasts.

Real talk?  I don't like the idea of "getting in shape" either.  We're already shapes.  Maybe you're a square and you'd rather be a rectangle?  I'm pretty sure I'm technically a pear (which is confusing anyway because it's a fruit, not a shape), but I'm here to tell you, I have, and always will, self-identify as a hexagon.

Anyway.

My first thoughts in these scenarios are always "Why losing weight? Why not getting healthier?  Or wanting to become strong?  Why not focusing on self-care?  Or self-love?  Why not work on becoming friends with our bodies instead of resentful enemies?"

I said "always" there, but that's not true.  It's always before today.

Because today my thought was:  Yes.  I would like to lose weight.  The weight of the world's problems.  The weight of my grief and guilt.  The weight of poverty, of stress and fear.  The weight of this depression and anxiety that seem determined to piggyback me into the ground.  The weight of waiting for things I am not certain will ever come to pass.  Those weights?  I would dearly love to lose.

My Version of TGIF

TGIF, for me, currently would translate to “Thank Gods It’s Fall”.  And a truer sentiment has never been expressed.  This summer was…challenging, to put it mildly.

Summer and I have something of a love/hate relationship.  I am vampire pale and prone to illness when overheated.  Needless to say, that particular season and I are not besties.  I’ve come to understand that when June is creeping up, the best I can do is know my limitations, pay attention to them, and try to stay upbeat about what I can manage.  For fucks’ sake, I literally can’t take the heat, and yet every year I plan and implement a garden anyway.  If that doesn’t shine a ray of optimism from my pessimistic soul I don’t know what would.

I suppose if I am being completely honest, I can’t dump the blame entirely on summer, as the issues technically began in the spring.  It just snowballed (ha!) from there.  Late spring was all about a continuation of massive car trouble, money worries, plans getting pushed back, rushing to get the garden in, and what I can see now was also the beginning of a major depressive down-swing.

Then summer hit in full force and brought with it:  delays, crop failures, more canceled plans, many arguments, and weeks of constant noise courtesy of my neighbors’ reno/demo.  And then my old buddy full blown clinical depression dropped in for a visit.  And stayed.

I won’t go into detail, because it’s just not a healthy idea, I’ll just say that after weeks of despondency and truly not-good-thoughts things finally took an upswing, and as abruptly as it descends, the depression finally let up.

But summer wasn’t quite done yet.

I had about a week of “Hey, things are pretty okay…” before catastrophe struck.  I got up one morning with the idea of wanting to make preserves.  I left the house that day solely to head to the fruit stand, and proceeded to become involved in the worst accident I’d ever personally witnessed.  So, there I found myself mid-week in the dregs of August, standing by the side of the interstate in 96° heat, bruised, banged up, bleeding, covered in glass and putting the sunglasses—that I’d just found two car lengths behind my car—back on my head.  All the while staring at my utterly totaled car with the 14 lbs. of peaches in the trunk, and wondering what the fuck.

It was memorable to say the least, and somehow summed up the entire season.

Oh, in case you were wondering, I did get my preserves after all.  My nephew, brother, and mom went to the tow yard the next morning to empty the car and rescue the peaches from the wreckage.  I didn’t get to do more that supervise the jam creation, because…well let’s just say that seat belts and airbags are truly awesome for y’know, staying alive, but suuuuuuuuuck as far as soft tissue and musculature is concerned.  Although, the 60 mph impact might’ve had a lot to do with that, too.

Anyway, my summer was finally closed out by doctors’ visits, numerous insurance phone calls, “new” car hunting, and more physical pain than I’d ever before had to contend with.  Truthfully, thanks to a lot of mind-numbing “taking it easy”, time passing, and physical therapy I am just now starting to head towards feeling normal again.

Now, to be clear, I realize that summer likely isn’t actually to blame for all of this angst and stupidity.  Regardless, I am more thankful for autumn’s arrival than ever before.  I figure, at this point, summer and I will just agree to disagree, have a clean break, and try again (please gods with better results) next year.

 

On Surviving the Plague*

Ah, February.  It’s that lovely in between sort of time of year; the snow is melting, temps are fluctuating madly with spring’s quick approach, and all around me is the sound of…….coughing.  And sneezing.  And then there is the  general lingering presence of a vast, VAST overabundance of mucus.  Blech.

 

 

***An Obligatory Disclaimer and Cautionary Statement***
I am not a healthcare professional, and I hope that you guys know that you should never take the word of some random chick on the interwebz in regards to….well, anything really, but definitely when it comes to your health.  So, do your research, and remember that natural medicine is not without its quirks.  You never know when something will trigger an allergic reaction, a drug interaction, or just generally not agree with you.  Just….be careful, ‘kay?

Anyway, my go to thing for recovering from the plague**, is Elderberry Syrup.  Great for boosting the immune system to avoid becoming sick in the first place (don’t think for a moment I’m not regretting that bit of procrastination right now), and unlike most cold/cough syrups, this one is actually pretty tasty. 

I’ve always had a good result with the various premade store bought syrups, but, holy crap, are they expensive!   Plus, this is a natural medicine that could not be easier  to make at home.  After trying several recipes over the years, I’ve been left generally unsatisfied, mainly because of the insane level of sweetness most of the syrups impart.  So, how do you cut the sweetness and still have the end result be “syrupy”?  Blueberries!  Subtly sweet, and similar to the elderberries in that they are also high in antioxidants and vitamin C, bluerries  also contain enough pectin that it seemed to be the perfect solution to replace a great deal of the honey. 

Oh, one last note, I really like to add whiskey to my syrup, both because it can help to break up mucus and to improve the shelf life.  It is, of course, entirely optional, and you would likely want to leave it out if you are sensitive to that sort of thing, or making this for kids. 

 

 

 

 

 

Elderberry Syrup

1/2 c. dried organic elderberries

2/3 c. frozen organic blueberries

3 c. water

1/3 c. raw (preferably local) honey

1 oz. whiskey (optional)

 

Combine elderberries, blueberries, and water in a medium saucepan.  Bring to a boil; reduce heat until gently simmering, and cook until the mixture is reduced by half (20 to 30 minutes).  Remove from heat and carefully strain mixture through a fine mesh sieve, smooshing as much moisture from the berries as possible.  Discard solids (your backyard birds will be incredibly happy with you if this ends up under their feeder).  Set syrup aside, and allow it to cool to room temperature before stirring in the honey and whiskey.  Transfer to a bottle with a tight sealing lid, and store in the refrigerator for up to one month.

 

Yield 

Approximately 16 oz.

 

Dosage

Daily, to boost immune system: 1 tsp.
To help get over cold/flu: up to 3 tbs. over 24 hours

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*It’s probably not actually the plague.

**Almost certainly not the plague....