Thursday, November 14, 2013

Insert OCD here. And add tiredness there. And who knows how understandable this post will be.

A blog friend wrote about cooking and OCD here.

And I started writing a comment, but decided my comment would be too long, long enough for a full post. So here goes.

My mom decided to make sure that all of her children knew how to cook. Actually, it is a remarkably positive-sounding goal. Reading it now, I wonder why I have sometimes resented it.

But I know why. OCD.

Say I was in charge of supper and I have to use ground beef. I got to go through cookbooks to pick something to cook. Say I picked shepherds pie, or, as we called it, Deep Dish Hamburger Pie. So there was browning the ground beef. Insert OCD here. Gotta take care of all the raw meet germs, and all the raw meet germ splatters on the stove, and debate whether or not the spatula that I used at the beginning of browning the meet got cooked enough as I stirred the meet, or if I needed to stop and wash it, introducing more raw meet germs into the sink...

Then there are the potatoes. One time, my sister and I didn't take off the eyes that were growing, so mom had us take them off after the potatoes were cooked, at the dinner table. No, maybe that was green on the potato, which apparently is poisonous. Well, again, that wasn't so unreasonable, except that I felt disgraced and determined not to ever have that happen to me again. Insert OCD here. After that, there was staring at the potatoes to see if there was any green on them, and trying to decide if the eyes had started growing enough to need removed or not... I found that so confusing that I usually just took them all out.

Okay, now this post is too tiring. Because it is after 10 at night, and I worked a full day, followed by a two hour training on SIDS prevention, which is still rather emotional for me after the toddler died of SUDC (the much rarer version for kids over 12 months old).

So a quick summary - what I probably should have just commented? OCD has gotten in the way of my cooking. So has a dislike of cooking (probably largely influenced by OCD). And now, I haven't cooked raw meat in my kitchen probably in over a year. And it will probably stay that way until I'm ready to cook raw meat again. Which probably wont happen soon. For one thing, I have dirty dishes from an unknown number of weeks ago sitting by my kitchen sink. I should probably wash those first. Not to mention the fact that trying to get rid of raw meat germs that are hiding on a cluttered counter could be difficult... just kidding. I did develop some skill in getting raw meat directly into the frying pan, skipping the counter all together. So that doesn't need to stop me.

Being tired, though, can stop me. Good evening.

Sunday, November 3, 2013

Where is that magic antidepressant medication that makes me feel better? Hey, wait, I was supposed to be on it, right? I was happy. I was enjoying life. I was working full time.

Well, I still am working full time.

But I'm overwhelmed. The good old, I don't want to go to bed because something (I don't know what, of course) isn't resolved. I suppose it is that sense that something is wrong. Hmm, wonder if it is depression or OCD.

Because recently I was thinking that it looked like depression, smelled like depression, tasted like depression, so it might be OCD. Or perhaps more likely, OCD fueling depression. What would I do without my two faithful companions who have gotten me through so many years, the sober depression and the agitated OCD? I mean, who can enjoy life for a whole year straight through? What a ridiculous thought.

Today's sermon was on that passage in Luke where Jesus said, "Blessed are ye that weep now, for ye shall laugh." The pastor said something about us not trying to get out of sad times - we didn't have to seek them, but we didn't need to try to get out of them. I'm probably not saying it right. But I wondered, no actually I thought, I think it is okay to try to get out of depression. I don't think we have to stay in sad things without trying to get out. Obviously, we have to get out appropriately, but we can try to get out. I'm not into meaningless suffering. I'm not into sitting around with depression if I can get rid of it (well, not into permanently sitting around; I do tend to do lots of sitting around when I'm depressed, though). I thought about asking the pastor about that, see if he agreed with me. But I didn't.

Well, I can hardly think straight because I am so tired and hungry (yes, I ate supper, but my stupid appetite came back). So good night for now. Thankfully I'm seeing my counselor this week, too, in addition to last week. I think I want to see her more frequently for a little bit.

Friday, November 1, 2013

an absence of angels in the scrapbooking world

I learned something today. I learned that apparently, people don't scrap book about funerals or memorial services. And if they do, they don't get to put stickers of pretty angels in sparkling white on their pages. Unless maybe those are only in bigger cities or something. Because I couldn't find any angel stickers in white with sparkles. Actually, I didn't find any angel stickers. I still have some Christmas angel stickers from last year... I'll check into those. And I finally settled with buying Christmas cards with angels on them, with the plan to cut the angels out and add sparkles.

I realize that the biblical accuracy of this angel picture in my mind is questionable. But I don't really care. I want to think of angel people in white - with sparkles, because I like sparkles, and I think heaven has sparkles - I want to think of these angel people holding my toddler student, carrying him up to heaven - well, I guess that would have already happened if my scenario is at all accurate - and bringing him to Jesus.

I want for it somehow to be all better. For there to be sunlight and sparkles and safety. And love that doesn't just dead-end into brokenheartedness.

I want to scrap-book a few pages for the little boy. Well, really, for me. He doesn't need them. I've printed out the few pictures I had left on my phone and computer. I got some stickers relating to his life. And I'll have pages about the memorial service, too, because I can. Because that is the most recent thing of him that I have. And I don't want to loose that.

I went to see my counselor this week. And in the waiting area, what song was playing? A song from the memorial service. Go figure.

There isn't really so much to say, is there. A kid died. I'll have to work through it. That is fine. That is part of my grieving process. One of those incredibly unnerving, emotionally disturbing simple facts of life that is soooo simple and yet beyond what I can grasp.

And now to change subjects suddenly (except that now you have warning), I have plans this Sunday that are my closest yet to a real date. Actually, I think it kind of is a date, sharing characteristics of a blind date, a double date, and just visiting friends with a friend of a friend there. Only, there is no commitment beyond just meeting this person and talking this one time. I'm excited. And it is still far enough away that I'm still more excited than nervous or anxious, usually. :)