Sunday, January 30, 2011

just when I'm about to compliment you...

You blow it by being a pig.
Just when I'm about to express how proud I am of you for being faithful and not a disgusting member of the male gender, you show your g'damn true colors and prove that you have a wandering eye, too. How disappointing.
On the other side of the coin, though, it probably has nothing to do with you...see, in my insecure being lurks the shame of myself, that I'm not good looking enough, that I've become this frumpy, fat, tired, gloomy woman that you shouldn't even bare to look at. And still you do. And still you want me. Maybe because I'm all you've got.
I just was made aware today that you are a normal man and that there may be after all,   always the possibility of you liking other women...especially those who look like models, you're just reasonable, right?

Saturday, January 22, 2011

"you can cure yourself from depression"

Just walked in from a house party where I heard, one more time the "you can cure yourself from depression" theory. The one where the speaker is so fucking convinced that, from personal experience, it only takes a lot of personal will and strength to rid yourself from the evil possession that results in depressive mood.
Right. Tell that to the woman who three years to this date found her partner, who struggled with bipolar and depression, dead after committing suicide. To his son who was the first one to come see her and the dead man and who still will not admit himself that depression is a bitch, a real disease that takes lives, who says that suicide victims are just weak freaks. Sad. Tell that to me, who have lived with depression since childhood, and whose father was that man her mother found three years ago in their family home, and for whom his loss is harder to deal with the more the years that go by and it certainly made even less sense when I had a child myself.
It's an issue (mental illness, being a REAL illness, like diabetes or cancer) very dear and close to my heart, because I myself have to still get to the acceptance stage, the one where I feel OK knowing that I live with this (depression, anger, anxiety, mood swings) and that it is not just a situational "little depressive stage", but a biological and perhaps genetic origin illness that hinders my ability to enjoy life like "normal" people may. Please don't get me wrong, it is by no means cool  to be diagnosed with mental illness, unlike many young people seem to think now, if we think of depression as a real and present disease that affects the brain's function and by consequence the body, maybe it won't be so fucking glamorous and/or people won't minimize it as when they say "we all have issues". We may all have issues, but we have not all been seriously and medically diagnosed and receive proper treatment and are not committed to the betterment of our wellbeing and our health. We would all be better people if we did, though.

So, hear me when I scream: Screw you, high and mighty self cured depressed people, and please keep your opinions about mental illness not being an illness to yourself. Yes, it is all in our heads, because the brain is the organ that is ill...for real. Educate yourself, ask us questions, but please, don't diagnose us and certainly don't treat us if you are not living on our side of the fence, because, even for those who do live with us on our side of the fence this is a daily struggle, please mind us all. I sometimes wonder if I have the energy and should actually start a Hispanic chapter through the NAMI in our city, because we need to reach out and promote make mental illness education present among the Latino community.

Just for today, let us honor that man's life and let us remember his good deeds, and the good times we did have together. May he rest in peace and may the Lord have mercy on him and us. I love and miss you, papa, even when it was so difficult to love and miss you when you were around.

Friday, January 7, 2011

St. Francis de Sales

St. Francis de Sales wrote:
If you wish to labor with fruit in the conversion of souls, you must pour the balsam of sweetness upon the wine of your zeal, that it may not be too fiery, but mild, soothing, patient, and full of compassion. For the human soul is so constituted that by rigor it becomes harder, but mildness completely softens it. Besides, we ought to remember that Jesus Christ came to bless good intentions, and if we leave them to His control, little by little He will make them fruitful.

Last few weeks

Christmas was good. I only had a few mood swings but nothing drastic or bad enough to make me get into trouble with J or other relatives. At least, that's my impression!
New Year's was ok, I managed to stay up and receive the New Year and toast with J. Romantic-wise, it's getting a bit better, too, so I guess he's probably grateful that part  of me is "coming back" a little at a time, at least. I actually don't feel like abhorring him anymore so I'm grateful that part of me is going away since I did marry the guy :-)

Little P is doing so good she's the cutest little thing in the whole world and I love her with all my being. I get so tired as the night sets in every day though, I pray that God has us ion his good list and sends us the grace so that I can manage to work out soon. It's awkward because she nurses and I feel like a cow, I can get over the cow thing but I'd never nursed a baby before and although it's been going well and I'm thankful for this I resent "being a slave to the pump or the baby" and how I at least should be happy that I can sleep through the night without P wanting to eat anymore. I know I can leave her with a sitter while I work out, but I'd have to pay the sitter, pay the gym fee, or pay the gym fee somewhere where babysitting is also available which is so expensive. Where there's a will there's a way, now I need to find the funds to get this going. I know deep inside this will benefit everyone, right?

At least for now I'm eating a little better, a little more on the side of how mindful I was when I was single and when I was so in tune with what my body wanted instead of what my newborn needs from me...