Monday, September 24, 2007

Making New Memories, Walking New Ground

Two years ago today...Rita. This photo was taken a month or two after the storm. Most of the debris was cleared away and the foundation was swept clean. Many people in Cameron Parish still live in FEMA trailers. There are still places around town where you can see that repairs have not been completed. I've seen commercials for a hotline number where you can call and talk about the storm and things. People in general seem to be recuperating and getting on with their lives.

I remember being fascinated with watching how people handled things after the storm. We all have storms in our lives, don't we?

We spent the weekend with my son, the first time we've been over there since he left the program. It was his birthday Saturday and we barbecued at my sister's on Sunday. I had all three of my kids together in one place. That doesn't happen much anymore. My parents were also in town for my father's eye checkup (all went well) so it was a big to-do. It was a good weekend.

Many thanks to all of you who have been so supportive with your comments. I have been neglectful in responding but they mean so much to me and I appreciate each one of you.

Saturday, September 15, 2007

Honestly? No. I Am Not Exactly Fine

I think I have this unconscious belief that once things get settled with my son, then I can live my life. I forget that things are never totally settled with any of us. Stuff happens. Yet it still takes me a little while to adjust after he does something like this. I lose small pieces of my life while I try to regroup. He's doing okay now. He is going to meetings (Narcotics Anonymous) every single day. He's going to church with my aunt. He has a job now.

But I am still a wreck. I can't keep my thoughts together very well. If I am not at work I want to be sleeping. My "get up and go" done got up and went, as my rural kinfolks would say. My house is a mess. I spend too much time aimlessly wandering around on the Internet.

Sometimes I feel like I am about to cave in on myself.

Sometimes I feel sorry for myself and create stuff like this--

Eventually my heart and my head get it together and realize I have plenty to be thankful for, that it is not the end of my world and that I will be better off it I will quit thinking and worrying so much and just live one day at a time. Then I create stuff like this--

And then I stay up half the night playing around with canvas and gel medium trying to make it look all artsy-fartsy like this--

Then I throw it on the bed in the extra bedroom, my studio (yeah right, keep trying to fool yourself old lady) and dream of one day doing something with it.

So yeah, I guess things are getting back to normal for me, whatever that means (sounds to me like I still have a little self-pity problem). Anyway, that's how it is with me at the moment--a little bit empty, a little bit like a rat on a maze.

(BTW, Mindy, yes, in the previous post, those are ATCs I created.)

Saturday, September 01, 2007


I wrote words similar to the ones on the list below to a therapist friend and he mirrored back to me what I said, only in a calmer and more succinct manner. I received this list as a gift and they are a helpful reminder to me when I am sore afraid and tempted to panic about the choice my son has made, which is nearly 'bout all the time. I am trying hard to lose the fear.

--I can't control everything I care about. That just is.

--I can handle it if everything doesn't turn out the way I wish--even if in some ways that's terrible.

--I'm neither a bad person or a failure if I don't fix it.

--I do care, and I've demonstrated that. That doesn't mean I have to fix everything. And if I don't fix everything, it doesn't mean I don't care.

--I'm not the only one who has the ability to fix things, or the responsibility to fix things. That doesn't mean I can't do, and haven't done, some pretty wonderful fixing at times in my life.

--And I'm not about to become the first adult who can control the behavior of another adult. Nobody else can do that, and it's fruitless to expect myself to do it . . . no matter how comforting it would be in some ways.

--It hurts. But it won't hurt to the same degree forever, and sometimes my only job is to endure the pain, and outlast it, and find healing.

I'm having a hard time dealing with this. Posting may be scarce for a while. I may take a break.