Depression?

It seems to me that whatever I do, I am led to a place where I can only weep. I finished my job a week ago and have had a fairly satisfactory week of catching up with chores around the house. But I am lost when it comes to using my leisure time. What I need is something absorbing to occupy my mind and keep me away from my emotions.

Today I decided to finally finish a scrapbook which I started in 2001 but abandoned a year or so later. I found scrapbooking too time-consuming although at the time I enjoyed doing it. So I decided that I could finally finish it and put it away for good but instead I found myself looking for photos which were missing which I thought would be easy since they are only a few years old and the kids are still here but I realised that I have become so fat and old and unattractive that I can't bear to look at myself as I was seven years ago. It's SO frustrating to be so stupidly affected by everything.

What the heck?

OK so here's the dealio. As of two weeks from tomorrow I shall be jobless. However, I also feel useless and without purpose or function. Despite the time it took up and the toll it took on my emotions, I really miss doing my family history research.

I am completely conforming to the stereotype of the depressed post-menopausal woman. Here is a checklist:

• unpredictable moods
• emotions close to the surface
• feelings of worthlessness
• an inability to envisage a future
• a loss of interest in things
  

I am sure I have more but I can't be bothered.

What I need is a new interest. In the past few years have found things to inspire and fascinate me to become absorbed in, but none of them are in the running now, so what is it to be?

We have just booked up a Florida vacation for a week in the depths of winter but I cannot raise any enthusiasm for it. I am very fat and very tired. I want to have fun but I am not sure I can do that any more.

What a crabby old bitch I have become.

Back to School

Unbelievably it's been four months since my last entry and apart from the usual ups and downs my mental state is just about the same.

Life has changed a little - I visited my home country for two of the most amazing weeks ever. A lot of people would have found it very dull - all I did was visit friends and relatives, take a few photos in London and troll around the welsh countryside with my sister, photographing gravestones, but for me it was a dream come true.

Finally after that trip, sometime during August, I put away all my family history research and photographs and am ready for a new project to occupy my mind for a while. I have phases of about two years at a time in which the hobby of the moment occupies every free moment I have. I haven't yet found my replacement hobby - perhaps I will go back to painting or writing, or maybe I'll do something more practical.

Emotionally I am still a wreck. I love my family without question but I am such a bad parent that sometimes I feel I do more harm than good. It certainly isn't the fault of the children that the mother can't cope or doesn't know how to deal with problems. I am just not mentally or emotionally capable of being the mother I would like to be.

Two months later...

... believe it or not I am STILL trying to wind up my family history stuff so I can put it away but stuff keeps coming up. It's one mystery after another and like a good detective I simply cannot let a lead go.

A lot has happened to lighten my mood although I have not been without a few minor panic attacks. Firstly, in anticipation of my forthcoming 50th birthday in a couple of weeks, I am going on a solo trip to the UK to visit friends and family. I am dreading the travel but looking forward very much to meeting up with some old friends on my birthday and travelling around and about meeting a few people.

Why is it that what was once so simple is now a big production? Why do I worry about things so much instead of relaxing and enjoying it - and pretending to go with the flow but inwardly furiously trying to go the other way? I drive myself nuts, that's for sure.

Anyway, the trip is planned, arrangements are made - and if I didn't make arrangements I'd end up being frustrated not to be able to see some people. As it is, there are a few that can't make it, but that's too bad for them and for me. It has certainly eased my stress knowing that I can escape the mundane and the bickering for a couple of weeks, although I know it's only put a patch over the problems and they'll burst through again at some later date.

I am thinking about giving up my job - in fact I've been thinking about it for some time, but I hate to let people down. I feel that I am not a good enough parent or housekeeper. I am tired at the end of the day when I am supposed to get cleaning and cooking done and I certainly am not inspired to try anything new. I'd like to keep the place cleaner and most of all I'd like to feel I have the time to take care of things at home so that I have the energy to do right by my family.

The weather is gorgeous this mother's day; I wish it would be like this for the whole summer.

A new resolution

I have come to a realisation this morning. I have been feeling sad and depressed on and off for many months now and being me, I self-analyse all the time. I think that's a habit I got from m mother. The root causes of my sadness are:

• that I don't always feel happy at home
  
• that I have been living in the past for two years, tracing my family history and making it my life's work to record everything I have learned and everything I remember - and being frustrated at the time it takes.
• that I will never get over the deaths of my parents (and it's been 36 and 21 years since they died).

I therefore resolve to put aside all my family history work. I'll give myself a month to file and sort everything so that I or someone else can pick it up at a later date and continue. Then I'll start spending my time in the present, and enjoy my children while they're still with me and I am with them.

I shall take up painting again and enjoy my family more.

I shall spend less time wandering aimlessly around the world on Google maps, re-tracing the steps of my youth, and more time outside walking the dog.

Different colours

Is there any originality left in the everyday world? I ask this because once again, it's St Patrick's day, and once again, every store's advertising is in green and now I'm getting green e-mails. I'm sure that once upon a time it was a novelty to tie in your everyday work with a minor holiday, but now it's predictable and dull. Besides, I dislike the particular shade of green preferred by those that do the decorating. Perhaps, living in the Boston area, I see a lot more of it than I would elsewhere - in which case I suppose I can forgive all those Italians, Greeks, Germans and Poles for joining another ethnic group for one day a year for some tasteless fun. Funny how no-one says "It's Chinese New Year! Today we're all Chinese!". Mind you, that could explain why Kennedy told the citizens of Berlin that he was a doughnut.

So back to originality. I surely can't be so jaded at the ripe old age of 49 that I've "seen it all", can I? I feel manipulated by forces outside my control whenever I shop. I am forced to choose from what is available - and when it comes to clothes and shoes it's down to least of the evils because my size isn't available in the colours and styles that I prefer. Certain stores draw me in with their decor and ambience whilst others make me want to scoot away as fast as I can move. Right now I am likely to avoid the Irish greenery.

Who in America decided that every season has its own set of colours? There's something that gets right up my nose. Back in the days before I came to the US I happily wore whatever colours suited me for the mood I was in and the temperatures outside. In America it seems that we are forced to wear the colours of the season. Forced? Not entirely, but we are limited to what is available in the stores when we are looking for new clothes, so one might have to buy pale lilac in March or April instead of deep purple.

The seasons of colours have not changed in the 14 years I have lived here.

• January/February: pink, white and red (for Valentine's day)
• February/March: forty shades of green (for Patrick's day)
• March/April: pastels pink, blue, green, yellow and lilac (for Easter)
• May/June/July/August: red white and blue (for Memorial Day and 4th July)
• September/October: black, orange and green (for Halloween)
• October/November: rich browns, yellow, maroon, deep red and burnt orange (for fall & Thanksgiving)
• December: Blue, white and silver for Hanukkah; Red, green and gold for Christmas.

Am I wrong? Of course this doesn't apply to the purchase of all clothing and decorative items but it makes it a lot harder to find what you want and limits the choices left.

As it turns out, the pastels suit me... but they suit me in the winter as much as in the Spring, but I can't find warm long-sleeved tops in pale pink. They'd be useful at Easter time in New England. And that's another thing... why do the stores think that those pretty sleeveless little-girl dresses are as appropriate in the north-east as they are in the south-east? I've seen a lot of shivering little girls in pretty Easter dresses and dress shoes, up to their ankles in snow. Yet try to buy them a pretty sleeveless dress to wear for Mother's day in May and there is nothing to be found but beachwear and flag motifs.

In the summer, those bright primary colours make me feel hot just to look at them, so I will not wear a scarlet T shirt in 90 degree weather. It would only match my face!

No white after Labor Day. Who says? Let's see. It's 80 degrees and we are enjoying a nice New England Indian Summer and I'm not going to wear a white shirt because someone says I shouldn't and without good reason? I think not. Is that why there are so few September brides?

So on to Fall... my favourite season. I love seeing the fall colours and the weather and the fresh breezes that finally send the humidity away. But clothing? No way. No Halloween orange or green for me. No browns or tans either. I'm probably still in my summer clothes until early November!

Finally, December. I love Christmas and decorating and the trees and everything. I also love silver and blue. Now there's a problem. If, for a change, I want to wrap my gifts in blue paper, or decorate my table to match my blue and white china, there's a problem. Everything blue and white has a Hanukkah motif. Why the heck can't a colour just be a colour???? I get tired of the same red, green and gold every single Christmas. I want something different once in a while!

I have to say that these problems do not - or did not - exist in Europe. Attractive and decorative items for Christmas could be purchased in any colour and cater to any taste - good or bad. I daresay they can here too - at a price. However my budget only stretches as far as Target and that's what I'm stuck with.

At least after tomorrow we will be over the ghastly green that permeates the stores but it will be replaced by fluffy bunnies and everyone will have to be pale and interesting. I really feel sorry for those who feel that by purchasing a fluffy bunny or a lilac blouse they are actually celebrating Easter. You can apply that statement to those who really like the Easter season and do it for the chicks and chocolate as well as those of non-Christian religions who think it is part of Christianity.

Easter is not chicks, bunnies and eggs. Christmas is not Santa Claus, decorated trees and presents. Got it? Anyone of any ethnicity or religious persuasion may safely indulge in decorating themselves and their homes in April and December without going against their religion. THOSE THINGS ARE NOT CHRISTIAN IMAGES. I wish the schools would realise that too.

So, always wishing to be a little different, I refuse to be drawn into this colour-coded nonsense. I wear white after Labour Day. I put blue and silver on my Christmas table and I wear a pastel blue cotton sweater decorated with delicate white snowflakes during the winter months.

This all explains why I wear mostly black.

It's all about me!

Well, isn't it? No, of course it isn't. I was taught always to put myself last. Serve guests, help people, be considerate of others and think of them first. Why does that sound old-fashioned now?

My parents were taught to respect and obey authority. They had to. During the depression their lives depended on hard work and freinds, family, neighbours and strangers helping each other. Jobs were scarce. If you had one, you took care to make sure you kept it and that meant working hard, doing as you were told, being respectful and pleasing your employers. During the war, it became even more imperative to be obedient, honest, and above all, unquestioning. If you were told to jump out of an aeroplane, you jumped. If you were told to jump into the ocean, you jumped even if you couldn't swim. Just to be clear... none of this had to mean compromising your principles (as long as you could afford to have principles) or your morals (unless your life literally depended on it).
So now we live in what I fondly call the Oprah era. Not that I blame her personally or entirely for this new selfishness that is pervading our society, but I do remember some ten or so years ago, on one of her shows she was telling the women in her audience over and over that it was "OK" for them to take time out of their busy lives to do things for themselves. And indeed it was.

So what's changed? The children of those busy mums who started taking time out for themselves were taught by their mums that they needed to take care of themsleves and their own needs. They forgot to tell them that they still had a responsibility to take care of others first and that making time for themselves was not supposed to be the only thing! So when the mums have finished teachning their daughters that it's ok to have fun, to "be what you want to be" and "do what you want to do" they suddenly find themselves with selfish teenagers who think they are the queen of all and that nothing matters but them!

The difference between taking time out for yourself and living your life just the way you want it is the difference between a well-balanced, well-organised society and sheer self-centered anarchy.

What is to be done about reversing this trend? Because reverse it we must. The fundamental lessons that must be taught now are:

• That other people's needs should and must come before our own. Period.
• That everyone has a right to live without fear, loneliness or pain.
• If you get to "follow your dream" for even one single day, you have achieved something.
  
• That being the best is only achievable by one person and that probably isn't you.
• That you are not special to anyone except yourself and those that truly love you.
  
• 
  

Does anything I say ever matter?

In our house I'm the first one to get up and the last one to leave the house. I am suppoed to be at work in seven minutes and I'm not even dressed yet, because I tried to hustle the kids out the door and decided to clean out a kitchen cupboard.

I decided that the recalcitrant elder child should start making her own lunch to take to school. Result? She went to school with no lunch today. I help the younger ones but only the youngest appreciates the help - the older one has discovered the withering weapon of sarcasm and hurls it at me whenever possible.

The man of the house tells me yet again that I keep everything in the wrong places instead of attempting to remember where everything is - and where it has been for years now.

I can't get up any interest in going to work because there isn't actually anything for me to do there today and I have plenty to do at home - yet I can't just not go.

When I awoke this morning I was happy and warm on a freezing day and one by one each member of the family has chipped away at my feeling of well-being so that now I feel like crying. It used to be fun to dream about what could be in my future, but now I don't see any future except one where I get older and grumpier. How sad. I've lost my ability to dream. I have no future.

being positive

Being positive isn't necessarily something I'm good at. My grandma, bless her heart, was the most optimistic soul I ever met - she saw the bright side of everything and never really let anything get her down. I'm sure that living through two world wars taught her to hide her feelings, and it didn't 'do' to express defeatism or pessimism because it was bad for morale.

I don't consider myself a particularly negative or pessimistic person - more a realist. I hate to build my hopes up to have them dashed, but conversely if the potential for very bad news exists I prefer to believe that all will be well in the end. I guess that isn't exactly realistic either My mother always said I was a bit of an ostrich and she was right.

Being positive in 2007, for me, means being content with my life. We are neither rich nor poor, we don't live paycheck to paycheck and if disaster were to befall us we have a bit of a cushion to protect us for a little while. Thanks to my very clever husband, that is. Having a comfortable life gives one a lot more time to consider those things which make us feel less than content. It's easy to criticise other people for the things they do and the way they behave, but one only has to remember that everyone has problems and difficulties to realise that their behaviour is a reaction to the things that happen in their lives. It's far easier to go through life imagining that the face that people show to the world is all there is, but the reality is that people are like icebergs. We only see the tip but there is a whole lot more hidden below the surface.

I find it frustrating to be with people who share little about themselves. I have always been a keen conversationalist but I am frustrated by people who constantly ask about me rather than share their own experiences. I don't ask too many questions because I don't want to pry into private business, but will happily answer any that are asked of me.... occasionally I leave someone with a cheery goodbye and then wish I hadn't said as much as I did.

I have a lot of insecurities about myself and the face I present to the world. Some days I can't say a right thing and others I find myself to be keenly insightful - and not only when I've been drinking either!

So, back to being positive.

not a boomer after all

I have been reading a lot of online articles (mostly from established British hard publications such as the Independent and the New Statesman) about the Britsh baby boom and it appears that in fourteen yeas of living in the United States I have become brainwashed! Now there's a surprise...

Speaking from memory alone, I recall that as a child at Primary school in the 1960's, the school was not big enough to accommodate the numbers of children it had to serve. The building was only built in the previous decade, yet by the time I was in my fourth and final year they had added two or three "temporary" classrooms (ie on a permanent foundation but built with wood, not brick like the rest of the school) and three "mobile" classrooms (or "huts") which were parked in the corner of the playground. Forty years later, the temporary classrooms are still there, and so is one of the original "mobiles". (That dates me right there - a mobile used to refer to a classroom not a phone!.)

I remember my mother referring to the increased and rising birthrate not as a "boom" but as a "bulge" and indeed I was very much aware of being in that bulge. Even with an alphabetically ordered register in class and the girls being several places down the list from the boys, I was number 40 when we called out our numbers, and I was only halfway through the girls list.

I have over the past twenty years or so come to realise that much of what is on tv is what I am interested in. My kind of humour, my kind of drama, etc. Could be a boom-effect but more likely that until this year I fell right into that demographic that advertisers want to appeal to. This is - or was - less apparent in the UK than it is here in the US, but it is obvious that over there I was part of a bulge which was amused by both Morecambe & Wise and Monty Python and while I thnk the range of entertainment which was offered in the UK when I lived there had cross-generational appeal, in the US the elderly and the very young are neglected on network television.

Now it is clear that the boomers are back in the demographic in a different way - luxury cars and retirement options are being marketed at them (strange to hear what used to be called "progressive" music being played in commercials) but in ten years when I am 60, those early boomers will be too old and I will still be too poor.

It is true, that as a baby born in England in the 1950's I benefitted from free milk, free education right through college, free health care and was brought up to expect that it would always be so. Now my contemporaries in the UK are coming to realise that "from the cradle to the grave' only applies if you die before you retire. We don't see our future suffering from poverty and neglect in our old-age because we were taught from birth that "the authorities" would take care of those in need. Our parents were taught to respect authority because of the war (WW2); one did as one was told without question. We were brought up the same way although unlike our parents, we rebelled. However we only rebelled mildly. Teenagers argued with their parents but eventually gave in to the higher authority; those born before us became hippies and joined protest and peace marches. We did a bit of that, but not so much because... well there wasn't much point was there?

I am - or was - sandwiched between hippies and punk-rockers. The hippies were pretty much gone in the UK by the end of 1971, and the punk movement started when I was at college in about 1976. So for the four intervening years we had what people have been pleased to call the era of bad taste. I wore smocks, long flowery skirts, brown corduroy, platform shoes, mini skirts, long-sleeved shirts with short-sleeved jumpers over the top and as schoolgirls we wore tights ("panty-hose" came to England just as my friends and I turned 12 and started to be allowed to wear nylons to school) with knee-high socks over them. Grey tights mostly.

I also wanted anything I could get hold of that had sparkle and glitter (which was mostly the kind of glitter that was glued to Christmas cards) because this was also the age of Gary Glitter, David Bowie (Ziggy Stardust & Alladin Sane), Alvin Stardust, Slade and the Sweet. We cultivated straighter than straight page-boy haircuts with not a hair out of place, we wore clean and freshly-ironed clothes with creases down the fronts of our jeans (if we even had any) and Oxford Bags. Some of us would get a "shaggy perm" and others, whose parents were not liberal enough to allow their sons to grow long hair, wore a long fringe and made up for their follicular fauxs-pas by wearing extra trendy clothes.

I was a wanne-be hippy but I enjoyed the glam-era. Like my friends I was rather baffled that the "teeny-boppers" that bopped up behind us in the discos, swooning over the Bay City Rollers and Little Jimmy Osmond should also spawn a group that didn't iron their jeans wore safety-pins!

My introduction to the punk lifestyle occurred at college, at the beginning of my seond year in 1976. There was a student who I had seen around and vaguely knew but hadn't really spoken to him before. We were at an evening folk club event and he was there with a hole in the knee of his jeans held together with a safety-pin. My friend asked him why he didn't sew up the hole instead of leaving it pinned together. To us a safety pin was something that was used in an emergency and was to be hidden and here he was wearing one in full view where most of us would be ashamed to be seen with one. We obviously didn't get it and sadly we never did. I remember pogo-ing at my friend's 21st birthday party a year or so later, by which time I was clearly "past it". I did it for a laugh, not because it was something me and my friends did for real... that was something for the teenagers jsut behind us.

Now I am listeneing to "Teenage Kicks" and realising that there was a lot of good music out there in the late 70s and early 80s that I simply ignored because it was different from the glam and rock music I had listened to as a teenager. I still don't like all punk music - or new wave or alternative or whatever label it had, but I find I ilke a lot of it and, most importantly, I realsie that those kids who liked it at the time were no more than three or four years younger than me which isn't such a big age-gap now as it was then.

Happy New Year!

A week and a day ago I was miserable, tearful, and stressed out over work, the holidays and other elements in my life but today I'm feeling great. We hosted our first New Year Open House for most of the day and it was a great success and enjoyed (I think) by all who came. The whole family really enjoyed it and even the dog enjoyed herself - she was extremely well-behaved too!

Excellent!