OK, I'm going to resist the temptation to post this long apologetic thing about why I haven't been posting. There's really no good explanation, except for that I was really depressed, badly depressed for quite a while. But I'm feeling so, so much better lately. I'm feeling like a normal person anyway. And I'm getting actual work done, which makes me so much more content in that day-to-day sort of way. It's like I suddenly feel like my existence matters when I'm able to work. But the weird thing is that there was nothing beyond depression and anxiety keeping me from working in the first place.

The other thing about being non-depressed is that I can, again, enjoy the really simple things, like cooking and reading and writing. I mean, when I'm depressed, it's like there's no pleasure in anything. But when I'm feeling just normal, the little things, like a really good cup of coffee or a really great murder mystery, bring me so much pleasure. But when I'm depressed, really depressed, I can hardly bring myself to do all those things, much less enjoy them. So I guess what I'm really trying to say is that it feels really, really good to just feel normal. It's so exciting to have read Harry Potter all weekend and to have actually enjoyed it. I guess that when I'm depressed (and maybe this is the thing with all depression--I don't know), I expend so much energy just trying to make myself do the things that have to be done, like getting out of bed and taking a shower and going to work and doing the dishes and going to bed on time, that there's no energy at all for anything fun. I realized as I spiraled back up, out of depression, that I couldn't even remember the last time I'd done anything fun. And aside from that, I think it would be good for me to try to have more fun in my life. But when I'm depressed, just the essentials are all I can handle, and even the essentials are sometimes more than I can handle. I'm just so thankful and relieved and happy to feel like a normal person again.

So thanks if you've read all this. It's not particularly interesting or insightful, I know. It's all even kind of self-indulgent. But I do think it's maybe, probably what I needed to write just now.

Emotional "Funk"

So, try as I might, and believe me, I'm trying everything I know, I can't seem to pull myself out of whatever emotional funk I'm in at the moment. And I feel frustrated because I've exhausted nearly all the normal avenues that I perceive to combat depression and anxiety and all that. It's all somehow exhausting. Just getting through the day feels like about all I can handle with on most days. I realize that I'm getting all broken-record and stuff. I guess I just keep blogging, even when I don't have much to say, because it's a way to feel slightly less isolated. But it's hard. Anyway, I'm still here and still trying.

Anxiety

OK, so the last four days or so, my anxiety has been pretty bad. And it gets really, really discouraging sometimes. When I'm really anxious, it's like I cannot concentrate on anything--work, pleasure reading, watching a movie. And it's just about the most frustrating, discouraging thing in the world. There are days, literally, when I am afraid that I won't be able to get through teaching a 50-minute class period. And although I sometimes feel like I can't do it, I most often manage to get through teaching, but it seems to take so much out of me that I can only crash afterwards. It's like fighting off the anxiety uses all the emotional reserves and resources that I can muster.

Starting about mid-March, I'd decided I wanted, as soon as school was out for the summer, I wanted to reread the Harry Potter series, in anticipation of the final book being released later this month. And I get so anxious that I too often can't settle down and read. And the really weird part about it all is that I just feel so apathetic (talked to J.S. about this the other day--he agrees that this particular apathy could be, seems like a symptom of depression. It's sad that something, Harry Potter, that used to bring so much pleasure on rereading just seems so flat, so unimportant).

However, I have discovered a tremendous help in my struggle against anxiety. A psychologist named Frank Lawlis (who is also Dr.Phil's mentor) has a series of relaxation CDs that I find tremendously helpful. They seem to be exercises based very much in biofeedback training and in simple breath observation meditiation. Here's a link, if anyone's interested:

http://www.mindbodyseries.com/

I admit that the set-up of the web site looks rather cheezy, but I'm using the series on general relaxation, and I do find it useful. I often listen to the disk as I'm falling asleep. And when I'm feeling super anxious, I listen too. It really does help me calm down and focus. I've loaded the program onto my iPod, and that way I can have it with me wherever I go, in case I'm out and about and get all panicky. This happened today between classes. I was only able to listen to about 5 minutes of the 20ish minute program, but it helped. And on the one hand, carrying around my iPod to cope with panic attacks seems a little extreme, maybe even neurotic. But it really does help, and I'm convinced it's a healthy way to deal with it all.

Guinnie is All Ready For the Fourth!

They are forecasting thunderstorms for tomorrow, July 4. But not to worry because Guinnie is all set. She's got her slicker on and is ready to par-tay!

Detox Diet Day Two--I Miss Bread

OK, I should have anticipated this. I feel really good physically, eating lots of veggies and such. But I really miss bread just about now. The bakery in the local grocery store makes this really great olive oil rosemary bread. And I'm so craving it. With lots of butter, naturally. While there's all kinds of good stuff out there that I can and even should eat, I'm longing for a carb binge. You know, I want lots and lots of refined carbs, preferably with dairy on top. I love to make (and A. can attest to this, as he's often the receipent / victim of my cooking) real Mac and Cheese. I've nothing against Kraft and will gladly eat Mac and Cheese out of a box, but there's something incredibly comforting about making cheese sauce from cream and butter and garlic and shredded cheddar while the pasta is boiling. *sigh* I suppose I'm just making myself want all this stuff more by sitting here and dwelling on it.

Maybe I'd be better off thinking about all the yummy things I have been eating. I'm sure I mentioned this yesterday, but I made this great Indian-inspired lentil soupy stuff. And it was wonderful and comforting and makes a complete protein when eaten with brown rice, right? And yesterday evening, I was very hungry and made this great salad and it was beautiful and wonderful and satisfying. And in some ways, this whole detox diet feels like rediscovering all this really great stuff, like the joy of a beautiful, wonderful green salad.

One of My Better Ideas

So about an hour ago, I wanted to take a shower and exfoliate. And I was convinced that I had some sort of lavender salt or sugar scrub, probably from Bath and Body Works. But I couldn't find said scrub. And that's the kind of thing that really annoys and frustrates me, you know? It's the whole, "I know it's got to be here somewhere. Am I just crazy?" So after a fruitless search, I decided that I should be able to whip up some sort of sugar scrub in the kitchen. I googled and experiemented, and here it is:

All you need are equal parts white, plain, cheap sugar and olive oil. I threw in a little lemon balm and a little lavender from my yard. But it was totally great. My skin is soft and smooth. It worked at least as well as, probably better than, many expensive scrubs I've bought.

Plus, you know, there's the whole added bonus of feeling really smart somehow.

Jicama

OK, I want to say that I LOVE jicama, and I cannot figure out why we're not all eating it more often. Weight Watchers says that, like so many veggies, it's a zero-point food. What that basically means is that one can eat as much of it as one wants. So it's all, you know, good for you and stuff. But I love the texture of it. It's so crunchy, and it almost, but not quite, satisfies the desire for potato chips. I love it plain, love it with lemon juice and chili powder, love it dipped in hummus. Jicama is just so great. It's kinda ugly, I guess. Maybe that's why we don't bother with it more often--I don't know. But right here and now, I am vowing to eat more jicama.

The Detox Diet

OK, so as I'm kicking off my "Living Well Through Acquiring Less" project (and I'm feeling like the project maybe deserves its own blog, maybe a collective kind of thing, if anyone else is interested in simplifying and experimenting and all that!), I have decided to do a two-week cleansing, detox thing. And I'm excited about it. Basically, I'm eating this really basic, vegan-like diet. No dairy, no meat, no animal products at all. Lots of fruits and veggies. And only very simple grains and such--I'm planning brown basmati (my fav!) and an Indian-inspired lentil / daal kind of soup. It's all kinda exciting. Lately, I don't necessarily feel sick, but I too often just feel not good. So my plan is to cut my diet way back to really basic, healthy stuff, just to see how it makes me feel. And from there, I want to slowly add in dairy and maybe just seafood.

I'm also taking a program of detox herbal supplements.

Here's the thing: detox plans that I've read about all recommend that one give up caffeine. And really, I'm just not willing to do it. I could even give up coffee for a while (BTW I anticipate that cream in my coffee is the thing I'll miss most during this whole detox period), but I'm just not willing to let go of tea. It provides so much comfort and fun and whatever. I guess that it seems like keeping tea around is an OK tradeoff.

Anyway, that's it--my detox plan! I'll let you know how it goes.

Living More, Buying Less--July: Eating Out

I know that this isn't any new kind of concept. But I have decided that for this month (and depending on how it all goes, next month and the month after) to give up one thing. I've been reading a book by Mary Carlomagno titled Give It Up!: My Year of Learning to Live Better with Less. And it's not an especially well written book. However, I'm borrowing Carlomagno's idea here. Each month for a year she gives up something that "has a personal and significant 'ouch' factor." She writes that her "selections were designed to push [her] out of [her] traditional comfort zone, where a change in habits would force uneasiness, questions, and finally scrutiny." After discussing consumerism and her need to acquire "stuff," Carlomagno writes "This year of living without forced me to put my habits of accumulation on hold, ultimately giving way to an awareness and enjoyment of the things in life that I was bledded to have and be part of. . . [T]he biggest lesson of all was not about what I had given up, but what I had gained."

And so, with the idea of performing an experiment, I have decided to give up one thing this month, and I've chosen eating out. I'm a little bit nervous about it really. I mean, what will happen when on a Sunday afternoon, I decide that I NEED Chinese take-out? Or what will happen when I miss out on a fun social event because I'm not eating out. But it's only a month, right? I can do this. Well, we'll see how it goes.

Emotional Eating

Sometimes, I feel like all I do is eat. And I don't know. It's like I feel crappy or lonely or deprived in some way, and of course the obvious answer is to eat. Now those of you who aren't emotional eaters probably don't get this, I know. And once I eat, you know for emotional reasons, I feel even worse, although in the middle of it all, it feels pretty good. But it's a cycle, a habit that I want to break. I don't think I'm quite to the point of needing Overeaters Anonymous (not quite yet anyway) but I'm so frustrated and ashamed, really. I mean, not only do I feel crappy about my weight lately, but more significantly, I feel crappy about myself, about who I am as a person. And I do believe that part of the problem here is that I keep trying to change my outside, when what I maybe need to work on is changing myself from the inside out. I'm sorry if this isn't so coherent; I'm really just working through all this in my own head.

I do (and this is the good news) have an action plan. At least, I'm working on an action plan, reading and writing and thinking about how I'm going to work through not the emotional eating necessarily but whatever the deeper issue is. I mean, I believe that emotional eating comes from somewhere, that it happens because I'm not dealing with stress or worry or whatever in a healthy way. And I'm working on finding that healthy way. In fact (wow, I feel a little funny saying this) I've started Emotions Anonymous. EA is like AA in that it's the same kind of 12-step program, but clearly, it has a different focus. I've been reading up on it and all, and I believe that this is at least part of the solution, a step in the right direction. But it's somehow a painful step to make.

Schizophrenia--What's This Blog All About?

This is maybe silly of me, possibly evidence of ever-so-slight OCD. However, I spend far too much time thinking about the identity of this blog: I think, "Hey, I want this hip blog where I say really smart things about serious literature." And then I think, "Wouldn't it be cool to have a blog where all I do is provide commentary on pop culture, notably all those really bad so-called reality programs on E! and BRAVO." And then, "Oh, since I'm all committed to my emotional wellness, wouldn't it be perfect to have a blog where I can really hash out all that." And so on. I'm convinced I need a more collective-oriented kind of blog where we can all post pics of our latest crafts. And then we need a space devoted just to cooking and great food finds.

So all this to say that I realize that my blog rather lacks any sort of definite identity, beyond, "Oh, here's what I'm thinking today." And so, I've considered having, like, six different blogs, you know, one for each of the separate, fun, smart (?) categories that I'm interested in. But that's not very practical. I mean, it seems like it will only be all this pressure to blog about all these different things every day or once a week or whatever. I mean, how's a girl to keep up? And then it dawned on me: maybe this blog is my own Golden Notebook. This seems empowering somehow. I mean, isn't it great if this blog can encompass all the things, some serious, some silly that interest me. Isn't it OK to post one day about anxiety and insomnia and the next about Hef and "The Girls Next Door." (OK, it's time for an admission. I am embarrassed to admit this, but it's true. Although I object to it on so many, many levels, I am completely sucked in by E!'s _The Girls Next Door_. If you don't know what that is, it's really just as well.) But really isn't that how life and personality and existence is? We think about our TV guilty pleasures (Oh, A&E's _Confessions of a Matchmaker_ is great!) and about our emotional struggles and about great literature and about the risotto we've been craving and about our next home improvement project and whatever else we carry around, both positive and negative. And the more I sort of reflect on it, the more I think that I want my blog to reflect all these things, because all these things really are me. And I don't need a red and a green and a blue notebook, blogstyle. Golden note books are the way to go!

So, posts to look for in the new future:

1. Drennan and the 12-step journey

2. My thoughts on E!, especially Sunset Tan

3. Why I can't seem to say anything smart about Harry Potter

4. Risotto (What is going on with me and risotto lately???)

5. Crafts and more crafts

Today's Topic: Why I Believe in Cooking

Although I like to cook and generally consider myself a good cook, I haven't been cooking much at all for the past six weeks. And today as I've been considering my predicament, it occurs to me that, for me, this not cooking (and I've certainly been eating) is both a symptom of and a contributing factor to my recent emotional "funk." It's both symptom and contributing in that weird, icky vicious-cycle sort of way.

Earlier today, I was listening to a podcast I enjoy, and the guest, a holistic health dietitian kind of woman, was talking about cooking, preparing a meal and both a meditative and a creative activity. And it's true that cooking for me is not just about consuming the meal and nourishing myself physically. The act of cooking can be so much more, even when I'm cooking only for myself. It's relaxing; it's creative. It's somehow an affirmation that I'm a worth more than settling for whatever at a fast food place, although I confess to a weakness for Taco Bell. Still, cooking is this engaging, rewarding, meaningful activity. And cooking for someone else, someone who appreciates it becomes even more than that: it's this act of affection, of caring. I have to say that some of my favorite memories with friends, C. especially, involve cooking together. That's one thing I miss now that I'm here and she's on the Left Coast, when she's not all jet-setting!

Today, I read this quote from Julia Child: "I was 32 when I started cooking; up until then I just ate." And it strikes me that a really wonderful meal prepared by someone else can be this really wonderful experience. But it's still "just" eating. Engaging in the process, both physical and emotional, of preparing a meal, even when it's glorious comfort food or Nachos at 11:20 while I'm waiting for SNL, is a different experience entirely.

I miss cooking. And as part of my newfound resolve to be more at peace with myself, I think that cooking more often, even simple things (like maybe barley risotto!) is part of my path to being more content and more at peace.

So happy dining to all. Does anyone know how to say that in Italian?

And Just One More Pic of Guinnie, Because She's Just So Beautiful. . .

Alan and Guinn

Just because I think it's too cute, here's a pic of A. and Guinnie.

A New Craft Project!

Ok, so my craft of the moment is these great crocheted, beaded chokers. They are super fun to make. And I really like how they look. Pictured at the right are three that I've made recently. The picture below is one of them on my neck. I guess I think that we'd all be happier if we'd take more time to indulge in and then celebrate our creativity. So that's what I'm trying to do here.

I'm BAAAAAAACK

I'm back. By popular demand. Well, I suppose that's a tiny bit of an overstatement. But I'm here and I'm posting, maybe not by popular demand, but because C.'s been encouraging. She even told me earlier today that she misses my posts. And of course, I wouldn't want to deprive her or the rest of you of good reading or at least of some sort of voyeuristic insight into my life and my emotional health. Or maybe you're just interested in what I've been reading and eating.

First, maybe a word about my silence (since 15 May) is in order. I've been really busy, at least for the two weeks that my family was visiting. And I've been pretty depressed--I'm finally admitting it--for the rest of the time. What's really kinda bugging me about this particular bout is that I cannot figure out why I'm depressed. But I do recognize the symptoms. Possibly most frustrating, at least at the moment, is my sense that I just cannot seem to get anything done. There's just no motivation there. Even things that I want to do, things I enjoy, fun things seem to elude me somehow. I know that it's not rational, and I cannot really figure out what to do about it. I'm teaching summer school--the one thing I can seem to get done each day--but when I get home, around 1:00 each afternoon, I seem to just sit. Even fun things just aren't happening for me. And it worries me when I get like this. And the weird part about it is that I'm not so much aware of feeling sad or bad, just lonely sometimes. It's more like I'm just this big slug, and I don't want to be this way. And I honestly can say that it's not that I'm just lazy, because even lazy fun things, like reading Harry Potter and watching fun DVDs, aren't especially appealing somehow. It's like I get home and I think that I want to read something fun, something not too challenging, but I just never quite seem to get to it, but it's not like I'm busy with other things either. I'm really doing nothing. And it doesn't make me too happy, I have to say.

However, I (finally, after three weeks of blah) am taking steps, concrete steps, to feel better and even to be better some how. And maybe I'll write more about that later. For now, I think it's enough to say that I AM doing something about it all. And just knowing that I'm doing something to start to pull myself out of whatever this weird funk is makes me feel better already.

Now that I'm here and I'm posting, I realize that it somehow feels good to be back. Or maybe it's that it feels good to be connected to the outside world, even in this "virtual" format. I've missed you all!

Gulag Archipelago

I've just started Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn's The Gulag Archipelago. And, at least so far, it is endlessly fascinating. And sad. And horrifying. And mesmerizing. How is it that I've never read this before? It's one of those things that for years and years I've been telling myself I "should" read, and of course telling one's self that one "should" do something is maybe the best way to dissuade one from actually doing it. I've read about 50 pages so far, and the writing itself is amazing. I suppose that the translator is maybe partly to credit here, but the writing, the individual sentences, are so well crafted. And all I really want to do is keep reading, in spite of the fact that both Elizabeth George and J.K. Rowling are beckoning. I don't know how to put into words how I'm feeling about Solzhenitsyn just now.

Weight

Since the first of the year, I've gained about 15 pounds. And there's not such a good reason for it, unless it's paxil (some call it pack-it-on-paxil). But I'm off that now, have been for six weeks or so. And the weight isn't going away. And I don't know how to explain how painful and difficult it is, living with the weight. My clothes don't fit--I'm down to about 2 pairs of pants and 3 skirts that I can wear. And I don't know. It's just emotionally debilitating, although I can tell myself it shouldn't be. So I've started Weight Watchers, again. But I don't know; it's all so hard. And I'm so discouraged that I do rather just want to give up and give in and decide that I'm going to be OK with being heavy, although I don't really know how to be OK with it. And I'm so, so frustrated, mostly with myself, which is the worst frustration of all. And I feel so alone in it somehow. Isn't that like some kind of weird refrain for me? I don't want to feel alone any more.

The Phil Spector Trial

When I'm home during the day, I like to have Court TV on, and of course they are currently covering the Phil Spector trial. The witness, Kathy Sullivan, who was on the stand yesterday afternoon and this morning makes me ill. She really does. She's a woman who claims to be a "platonic acquaintance" of Spector. And she was out for drinks with Spector earlier on the evening that Lana Clarkson was shot. So, it's obvious to me anyway, that it easily could have been her, rather than Clarkson. Of course, I suppose that statement implies that Clarkson's death wasn't suicide. Anyhow, this Sullivan woman is testifying as to the nature of her relationship with Spector and what they'd done earlier in the evening. And she's clearly turning this into her own 15 minutes. She's on the stand, acting all cute, cracking jokes (which the attorneys laugh at, by the way), turning this all into something about her, turning it into her chance to be on TV, to talk, to have attention. And it just makes me sick. I want to scream. I want to say, "Look, a woman is dead. Can you only think about yourself?" And it's not the normal thinking about self in the sense of saying, "Oh my gosh, this is terrifying. This could have been me." She seems not at all shaken by the whole think. It's friggin' unbelievable. And I use "friggin'" sparingly, so you can judge the severity of my reaction here.

The other weird thing that strikes me is this. And here I have to credit Lisa Bloom and Vinnie Politan for exploring some of this in their commentary. Spector seems to have this pattern of going out to dinner with a female friend, then picking up other women at the restaurant or bar and saying something like, "Hey, after my driver takes this woman home, do you want to join me for drinks?" There's something supremely creepy about that, in my opinion. And all these women he hangs out with claim that their relationship is merely platonic. Politan points out that "platonic" means that Spector was interested in a sexual relationship, but the women were like, "No thanks." If that's true, platonic must mean the women are like, "no thanks," until Spector drinks too much and then pulls a gun on them.

I don't know, rather like Anna Nicole's life and death, as Spector's story unfolds, I am struck by how supremely unbelievable it all is. I mean, I do believe it, and I think that the way that the prosecution is portraying him is reality. But if this were merely a movie and not real life, I think we'd all say, "That would never happen. That's totally unbelievable."

I sorta alluded to some of this a couple of posts ago. I sometimes feel like there's all this "stuff," important, sad stuff that's happened in my life, stuff that I'm just not talking about. And it seems like I somehow need to talk about it. I think that just avoiding it, or acting like it's unspeakable makes it more damaging. And really, why not talk about it? I think I'm just somehow protecting people who don't care about me. Here's an example: just over three years ago, I didn't get married. I was engaged, and J. waited to decide that he didn't want to marry me, waited until the last possible second. Seriously. He waited until there we were, in front of our families, in this public forum to say, "Oh sorry--don't want to marry you after all." OK, that was a paraphrase, but you get the idea. I suppose it would be more accurate to put it this way: he said something like this, as he dropped the ring he was supposed to put on my finger: "I'm really sorry, but I just can't do this." What he said isn't my point however; my point is that he chose to do it in a very public and thus extra humiliating fashion. He chose not to deal with me; he broke up with me, in front of, like, 50 people. But here's the part that I'm getting to. A week or so later, when I told some colleagues of both of ours that we didn't get married after all because he changed his mind, he got all bent out of shape. He got mad and told me that I had not right to tell people, especially people with whom he had a professional relationship, as did I, that it was his decision. That, he said, was too much personal disclosure. So that made me really angry. I mean come on! One: it was his decision, and I didn't want the additional pain of having my character called into question as the one who didn't keep commitments. Two: he did it in this oddly public way anyhow. I mean, after that, I think that any reasonable expectation of privacy was gone anyway.

The more I write about this whole situation, the more I feel absolutely disgusted with J. He'd be horrified, I think, that I'm posting this publicly, and I'm proud to say that I've gotten to the point (finally!) that I really don't care. It's somehow therapeutic and helpful for me to say it all publicly. The more I think about how he dealt with the situation and what he's done since (he lives with his mom. He's 35 and lives with his mom, not because he has to for any reason, but just because he's kinda pathetic like that). . . oh, the more I think about what he's done since, the more I just feel really, really sorry for him. And so there it is: I was in love with a pathetic loser. He was the love of my life. And I'm sure that I'll never be quite the same. But still, at least I've moved on and actually have a life of my own. Oh, his mom's quite wonderful, but that's not really the point. I've found a career that's mostly fulfilling and that I'm mostly successful at. I've forged other meaningful relationships. I have friends. I have interests outside of work. I guess I don't know where I'm going with all this, just that I need to get it out.