xiane: ([yarn goddess])

I am struggling right now.


I was marching to the wrong drum
With the wrong scum
Pissing out the wrong energy
Using all the wrong lines
And the wrong signs
With the wrong intensity
I was on the wrong page of the wrong book
With the wrong rendition of the wrong look
With the wrong moon, every wrong night
With the wrong tune playing till it sounded right


I don’t expect it to rear up in the Summertime.
I don’t expect the dead feeling. Or the pain. Or the confusion at feeling these ways.





You know what sucks? Running a business that you depend on to pay your bills when you feel like this. Also, it sucks to know that I’m being a terrible friend and peer while it’s going on, because it’s so hard to follow through with anything. I have no motivation, no oomph, no drive, no desire for much of anything but trying to feel better.


I counted it as a great victory that I managed to get up and walk around the block tonight. I did have a strong drive to go do that, and I walked at a fast pace up the hill and through the dusky evening, looking at all the houses that I usually see from the car as I pass by. That felt good. But it was met by a rousing chorus of ennui when I came back in.

Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down.

That’s the ride I’m on right now. Sometimes, everything’s fine. Sometimes, everything’s GREAT. But the crash is inevitable, usually made worse the higher the high is. And if someone offers advice about the crash, that makes it worse. Or if people make a big fuss about it. Or if I think about it too much at all. But I can’t ignore it, that’ll make it worse, too.

Really, you can’t win when you’re in the grip of this.


Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down.


I have some A M A Z I N G  things happening in my life right now. That has NOTHING to do with why I feel this way. Nothing is really wrong. I mean, money’s tight, like it always is at this time of year in the Fiber Arts world. There’s some stressful stuff, in that way that I have to be clever and patient until I figure it out or get through it. But nothing catastrophic, nothing terrible. I’m okay. Just not inside my head, and not inside my soul. Those parts are all fucked up right now. And I just have to ride it out. I have to get through this too, and it’s all about patience and not a bit will cleverness help.

Trust me, I am so, so tired of having to be patient.


So no, nothing tragic happening here. No horrible thing, nothing so drastic that people should worry. Just me struggling with my brain chemistry and feeling guilty because it makes me so much less the person I like to be. I feel like I let all of YOU down when I’m like this, which of course makes me feel so much worse. I hate to let anyone down. I hate to not feel dependable. And admitting all this is really hard, but of course this is something I’m known for now, my blistering self-revealing honesty. There you go, you get it all, in the name of letting other people who feel this way that they’re not alone. Go me, I guess I do something right. I hope.


Yep. That’s my thought process right now in a nutshell. The girl who doesn’t care what others think, the girl who is fearless, the girl who dares… she’s on vacation right now.



  • If you’re sensitive to things like crashing cars and accidents and stuff, don’t watch this video.

Mirrored from xiane dot org.

xiane: ([yarn goddess])

I will not tell you what to do.

the cake is a lie

...tasty, tasty cake.

I will not tell you what to think.
I will not tell you where to go.

…unless you piss me off REALLY really badly, of course.


You have to figure things out for yourself. However, if you ASK me for my input, I’ll gladly give it. And of course, I offer opinions in my own space continually.


There’s a reason for this.

If you really want to understand a problem or situation, you need to live it.

I can tell you what *I* think about the possibility of your obsession with rotating widgets ruining your plans to become Emperor of Casselblatt, but that doesn’t mean that I know a damn thing about the situation – I’ve never even played with the widgets in question, and heck, I’ve never been to Casselblatt. Are widgets even a thing there? I am so out of touch.


Why is it that people insist on doing the same to others? Let me give you a hint here, folks who LOVE to give advice: if that advice is not sought first, it is not welcome. Especially when this advice concerns a chronic condition that the advised party has been living with for quite some time. Yes, even if you too have that chronic condition. Just because – and I’m going to use my own self here as an example, as that’s one that I know well – just because you also have depression doesn’t mean that you have MY depression. You do not have my background, my chemicals, my medical history, my experiences with therapists/psychiatrists/medical professionals. You don’t know what I’ve tried and found helpful, what I’ve rejected, or what I can’t do for whatever reason. YOU. DON’T. KNOW.

I know you’re trying to be helpful. But this is not how to do it, folks. And no matter how much I appreciate your concern, this is the quickest way to get me to shut off and close down – and many other people feel the same way.

So how should you help? Firstly and easily, here’s the singlemost useful question you can offer: May I offer suggestions, or do you just need to talk about this?

This opens up the floor for your friend to say “I just am so frustrated and want someone to be sympathetic” or “I don’t know what to try next – here’s what I’ve done so far.”

This allows you to be supportive, and your friend to BE supported, and neither one of you will feel put-upon or rejected.

… And you’ll find that this tactic works well in many other situations, too. It is an effective way to provide needed listening and support. And I guarantee that your friend will appreciate you so much for it.

Mirrored from xiane dot org.

xiane: ([yarn goddess])


Funny enough, despite the clinical depression, which waxes and wanes but never completely goes away, I’m happy.
Despite the spectres of my past, and the uncertainty of the future, I’m happy.
Despite getting angry with the government, and our Apathy Culture here in the US, and despite having to fight against the mistaken idea that there is a meritocracy by people who more often than not are struggling and won’t see that there’s something wrong with the idea of working one’s ass off to barely get by… I’m happy.

Weary, oh so drearily, we wave our flags into the camera.
It’s Amber goes the hotline, we’re all friends but no one ever answers

Sad, but true—the truth can turn your smile to a frown.
So what’s the use, dear Jenny? Anyway, the world is pretty
Dresden Dolls, Dear Jenny

Just because I’m happy, that doesn’t mean that I should stop advocating for those who are still in abusive situations.
Just because I’m happy, that doesn’t mean that I should stop promoting justice and equality.
Just because I’m happy, that doesn’t mean that I should settle for status quo.
Just because I’m happy, that doesn’t mean that I should stop talking about what I’ve been through.

Why? Because that’s the point. I want you to know that you can get here, too. I want you to know that, no matter what’s happened to you, you’re not alone. I want you to feel that you CAN speak about what you have experienced, what you are working through, what you feel – without getting shut down by people who all too often are afraid to look at their own souls.

I’m not dwelling. I’m not wallowing. I’m taking action. I’m inviting you to take action.

People heal on their own terms. People fight for change on their own terms.
Don’t let anyone push you into thinking that your way is less than their own.

Mirrored from xiane dot org.

xiane: ([yarn goddess])


I am, in turn, fierce and fragile.

My left hand is smooth. On my right, the skin is rougher, from hard work. Because of this, I wear my jumbled pile of black rubber and sterling silver bracelets on my left arm, so they do not get in the way when I Do Things. I make it up to my right arm by the permanent adornment of a black skeleton key tattoo.

Smooth or rough, my hands are strong. I use them to grasp and pull and lift, and then I work with the most sensitive part of my fingers – the tips – and shape and draw wool into yarn with great control and skill. I am capable of extremes.

“What about this thing that you gave
What if it weren’t quite perfect
What if there was something bad about it?
Wouldn’t you still love it just the same?
Wouldn’t you still care about it?”

When I am “up” I am often deliriously happy, in love with the world. No color escapes my sight, no touch from my lover taken for granted. I revel in the cool breezes, the look and feel of my clothing, the way my body moves. I am never more alive than in those moments.

When depression creeps in – sneaky, unnoticed until I am full in the throes – I feel heavy, pained. I notice the same things, but the delight I get from them is muffled, no matter how I try to break free from the web of grey that wraps around me. I am still the same girl, but I am covered in a shroud of melancholy.

And writing that, I feel melodramatic… but it’s true, as much of a truth as my two hands which are part of the same body yet so different. Knowing this, accepting this – it helps. Each hand has its own strengths and weaknesses, its own adornments and looks. That is the way that it is. I can’t reject that. I don’t have to wallow in the weaknesses of my left hand to appreciate that it looks less aged, less haggard. And I don’t have to feel bad about my right hand looking rougher, marked by time; I recognize that it has worked hard and created many beautiful things. Together, they work to write this blog entry and share my words.

I love them both, because they are mine.

Mirrored from xiane dot org.

xiane: ([yarn goddess])

I am not here for you.

I can do many things for you. I can help you up, help you out, give you a hand.
I can listen, I can advise.
I can hold your hand, rub your back, cut your hair, lift you up.
I can give you a ride if you need it.
I can sit by your side in support at the doctor’s office or lawyer’s office or police station.
I can compliment you if you need it. I can criticize you if you need that.
I can love you.

But I am not here FOR you. I am here for me.

I am here to fulfill my destiny, whatever that may be.
I am here to dance under the moonlight and take hikes in the rain.
I am here to laugh and cry and dream and work and sleep.
I am here to do the things that I am able and willing to do, and I’m aware that these things aren’t always mutual.

I am here to live. I am here to love. And I will do these things in the way that is right for ME.

What about you? Will you do the same?

I attended a teleclass tonight. That’s the sort of thing I’ve been doing a lot of lately, because I’ve discovered a distressing fact: I’m regressing.

What do I mean by regressing? Well, let’s put it this way. When I was a teen, I was a hot-mess-mix of self-assured/headstrong/brave and submissive/wanting to please/afraid. I spent my time waffling between wanting to take on every thing the world had to offer and being afraid of hurting those who loved me and had certain ideas and expectations about how I was supposed to live.

When I met Rob L, things suddenly came into focus for me, with his help and belief in me. I realized that I spent too much time trying to please others, while all the while I was betraying myself. He woke me up and showed me that even if *he* wasn’t there to believe in me, I should believe in myself, because I am powerful and smart.

And then we broke up… and those lessons slowly wore off. I was hurting, and scared, and I had a ton of baggage from the abuse and alienation in my childhood. I let these things take over. I let myself believe that I wasn’t worth anything. My depression whispered in my brain:
“You are nothing. You will never be enough. You will never be happy.”

I’ve talked about this fall from grace before. I went to live in Ocean City, drank and drugged too much, came close to killing myself several times. Came home completely demoralized, fell into a relationship with Angry Rob that lasted much too long and worked very hard to destroy the rest of me. After that, more relationships with men who cheated, didn’t value me as they should have – as I should have demanded that my lovers value me.

And then I got therapy and meds, and slowly I’ve been stitching myself back together. And Rob L and I re-found each other, two broken people who both forgot what he had taught me… and now we’re working on learning how to love with an open heart once again.

The teleclass, A Girl’s Guide To Falling In Love With Your Life, was hosted by Jo Anna Rothman, who heads the marvelous Receiving Project. I suspect that although she addressed it to “girls” – anyone could benefit. I know that I did.

She wanted to know this: What am I willing to let go of so that I can really fall in love with my life?

I’m releasing my guilt. I can only be me. I can be nothing else.

I’m letting go of my anger. It’s not your fault if you want me to be something else. That’s what you were taught, too. I think you’re good enough. Can you let me be good enough, too? If you can’t, it’s okay, because I know this:

I am good enough for ME.

And if I have to keep telling myself over and over until I go beyond just believing it and have it in my bones and my brain and my soul, that’s okay, too.

It’s all okay.

Mirrored from xiane dot org.

xiane: ([yarn goddess])

September always brings on The Challenge.

The Challenge is the time when my brain chemicals shift and the anti-depressants stop working as well. As I’m in a place where I can’t easily or effectively go to a doctor and have my meds adjusted, it’s up to me to get through this on my own. This will be my first year in a couple of years that I’ve had to do this, so I’m telling you all about it – I’m going to share my feelings and approach, and hopefully remind you in the process: YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

If you are feeling down and think you have no one to turn to?
If you don’t understand why you can’t just “get happy?”
If you don’t feel like getting up in the morning, or going to sleep at night?
If you can’t seem to explain any of this to anyone, and you feel like they don’t get it if you do?
If you are just so tired of feeling this way but you don’t know what to do?

You are not alone.

You are loved

One of the reasons that I turned this blog to the subject of my depression and the work I do to live a good and happy life is that I want you to understand this: there is hope. There are options. Even if you are at the literal bottom of the barrel, face-down in the gutter… there is always hope, my friend. And I’m not just saying that to paint the world all rosy-pretty-happy. You know if you’ve read my blog that I’ve been there. I’m not in an awesome place right now, actually. But you know what? I REFUSE to give up. I REFUSE to let my chemicals – and that’s ALL IT IS, stupid messages from stupid chemicals in my brain – win this battle.

I’ll give you my time to kill
But you’ll never never
Break my will
Or I could sink a sleeping pill
And in the morning could be
Sleeping still
But most of you are much too ill
Way beyond a surgeon’s skill
In bondage to a dollar bill
What more can you buy?*

I have “medicated” myself in many ways. I drank and drugged myself to numbness and beyond. [didn't work] I stayed in bed for two weeks straight. [didn't work] I tried to run away. [didn't work] I spent and spent and spent in an effort to get a high from the next new toy. [didn't work] I went from guy to guy, relationship to relationship, looking for affirmation beyond myself that I was worth something. [didn't work]

But I AM worth something. A lot of things, actually. One way I know this to be true is by the quality of friendships that I have. I asked my friends yesterday, via Facebook, to give me one word to describe me. Want to see some of what they said?

amazing creative talented awesome unique friend determined genuine inspiring true ingenious fierce fun kind earnest brave

That’s what they see in ME. Lil’ ol’ me.

Ask your friends and loved ones. I dare you. What do you think you’ll find?

You are.....

So that’s your homework. Mine is to figure out what I’m going to do to get through The Challenge. One thing for sure I’ll be doing is taking extra time to love myself – that includes making sure that I do the small things like get enough sleep, bother to put on clothes that flatter me, eat regular meals. Those things often go by the wayside at this time, and of course they just serve to make me feel smaller and ickier. I’ll try not to bristle when people who care about me offer well-meaning suggestions on how to “kick” my depression. [I've had this since I was a kid, I've heard it all I promise! *grin*] And I’m going to keep posting positive things, both on here and other places I frequent. I can do this, and I’m going to take you with me to show you that you can, too.

You are loved. So am I.

*lyrics from “Soul In Isolation” by The Chameleons UK. A lovely, though poorly recorded live version is available here.

Mirrored from xiane dot org.

xiane: (Default)

I’m alive, even though the status of my blog has been questionable at best. Moving it? Yep. It’s coming. I’ve already moved the Threeravens blog/site – this one is next on the list. Keep tuned for updates on how that’s going.

I’ve been sleeping in totally weird bursts of time. It makes me feel disjointed.

Mostly, I’ve been in a self-imposed social blackout, for regrouping and mental health reasons. I’m shuffling back into regular rotation now, never fear.

And one quick hit –

From this amazingly accurate post on Depression and what it does:

Chronic depression is a cancer of the personality. It eats your personality and replaces you with itself; the more you experience intense depression in others, the more you realize that The Depressed Person is always some variant of the same personality; whereas healthy people are infinitely diverse, The Depressed Person is always recognizable. Depression is insidious, so that your loved ones may not realize that you are being slowly erased and replaced by something that is not you.

I recommend reading the whole post, from http://ewin.livejournal.com/1332469.html.

Reblog this post [with Zemanta]

Mirrored from ...what's a xiane?.

xiane: (Default)
Image via Wikipedia

I was supposed to catch y’all up on my status, arg.

This is what happens to me even with the best of intentions – I get sidetracked so easily. This time… well, wait, I’ll tell you the story. It’s a good one. First though, the therapist visit!

I’d scoped out the therapist’s office ahead of time, so I wouldn’t panic about knowing where it was. [always smart] It’s in a quaint part of town, with some older houses, some in disrepair. The actual offices were a bunch of trailers cobbled together to make a building; needless to say, I was a bit worried how that would reflect on the treatment that I would get. O_O

I shouldn’t have worried. The patients there ran the gamut, and there was an office dog, which made me smile… and best of all, my therapist, Anne, was female – something I’d really wanted but hadn’t voiced. I didn’t want to have to tell my story to a man. I didn’t want to feel ashamed or just hope that he really, truly “got” it.

After the basic introductions and a run-down of my medical history, I went ahead a spilled the whole sordid thing. Trigger warnings galore, folks.

Read the rest of this entry »

Mirrored from ...what's a xiane?.

xiane: (Default)

And she is not good or bad
Oh, but she wants all she could have
Your soul’s familiar call
This is it… I am and
It’s not like me

[Claire Voyant - not like me]

My silence is equal to my lack of passion. I am adrift in a sea of “I don’t care” and “I’m too tired” and “It doesn’t matter” - but it does matter and I do care, I’m just too tired and pained to admit it or do anything about it.

Depression is embarrassing. It’s humiliating to admit that I don’t have the drive to finish anything, that all I do seems to be sit around on my ass and think of nothing, or dream wistfully about the things I’d like to be accomplishing, if only I had the passion, the energy, the stamina, the will.

And people look at me and see a “healthy” person, which I can’t blame them for - and they wonder why I can’t just shake this off and get to doing… obviously it should be that easy. Just make yourself motivate, Xi.

It isn’t. I wish it was.

BEIJING, CHINA - FEBRUARY 2:   A man views dre...
Image by Getty Images via Daylife

I went to NYC recently. For most of the time I was there, I was energized, more than I have been in ages. I came home full of hope, ideas, thoughts.
I know that living here takes away some of that zest for life… no sidewalks, no bustling creative energies, no ever-changing wall of humanity to observe. I barely even have friends here. And of course, I’ve been becoming more isolated again, but that’s a side effect of the depression, too, that need to cut myself off from everything. It hurts me to be open like that - physically hurts. That stupid Cymbalta commercial about depression hurting? I really wish it wasn’t true. I get an ache inside, like someone was slowly squeezing my heart and lungs. My bones ache. I feel weak and ineffective.

What’s worse is that I hate hate hate talking about it, admitting it, telling people just what’s going on and how I feel. Like I said, it’s embarrassing… and I know that so many people discount these feelings. I understand it, and I wish I didn’t sound so whiny and weak. But I guess the only other options would be to either fake that everything is fine, or stop talking again. And I am tired of not communicating. I know that hurts my friends and family, too… and there’s enough hurt going on already without that.

And you might tell me the truth
And I might be reminded of you
In everything I see and that I feel
You might be…

Reblog this post [with Zemanta]

Mirrored from ...what's a xiane?.

January 2016

1112131415 1617

Most Popular Tags

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags