Ever have a day where you just stare into space? Yeah, that’s this day. I’m not fighting it. I’m old enough to know it isn’t permanent. Just time to regroup.
Category: Mental Health/Personality
At nearly 76 I still feel like this:
The Inherited Mind: A Story of Family, Hope, and the Genetics of Mental Illness by James Longman
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
I rarely give autobiographies five stars. Not because I don’t like them, but because I feel weird saying that a life in writing is the best or worst. It seems like a judgment of the person and not the writing. But in this case, the science and research make this review easy to praise. James Longman’s life was tough, but this book searches for answers about his father and how that applies not only to his own life but to all of us who have had mental illness touch our lives.
Mr. Longman’s courage to attack long-held beliefs about schizophrenia, bipolar, depression and other mental illnesses and owning his own issues in the process make this a marvelous read, worth owning. I did pick up the audible version and felt the author narrated quite well. Now I am thinking about getting the paper version so I can see charts or research more easily.
I highly recommend this book.
Well, that’s easy! It is Finishing Friday! A great way to keep track of hobbies and passions. A way to see progress when, at times, it seems the end is as far as infinity. Row at a time, an inch at a time, a chord played right, or a rhythm that stays where it belongs is fun to keep track of. Many keep track of grievances or pain. I have. I probably will again and again. But I feel more fulfilled if I can see good and beautiful things done from the same place as the bird’s song. It feels right. It gives me pleasure. Not because I am looking for praise. I thank you for that, but it is more for me to feel like I am moving forward.
This felt good as it hit. Some days I do a lot of lessons. For others, I just do the one to get the points. I love languages, so it is fun for me.
The last two hats were for smaller heads. So I decided to make one a little bigger. I just finished the ribbing and started on the basket weave part. It is easier on my hands than crocheting or knitting, so while I am feeling the arthritis, I’m being gentle on the fingers.
My brother’s socks are coming along. Less than an inch to the end of the arch ribbing. Then, an inch to the beginning of the heel. I feel I am at the beginning of the end of this pair.
The middle section of the ‘smiling turtle’ diamond painting is almost done. It is a fun project. I love all the colors.
I have, in all essence, finished this book. Most of it was a review of things I’ve learned all my life, especially as a music major. But toward the end, it started meeting my needs. It has a lot of ways to improvise. I still find myself trying to play every single note rather than play, but I’m seeing ways to do it. I’ll be doing the review for this book soon. Mostly, at this point, I am in love with the last song presented. It’s called Coming Home.
So my favorite songs to play right now are Baby Elephant Walk, Just the Way You Are, God Bless the Child, and Coming Home. They drive me to the piano. I actually spent an hour there today. Remember in the summer or fall when I stated I could barely get five minutes in before pain or boredom pulled me away. Now, I have the joy of actually hearing and feeling the earworms that crawl through my head the rest of the day. My own music!
My ukulele, violin, and recorders sit sadly, waiting for my hands to feel better. I miss the learning process with them.
Well, that’s my Friday report. Fini!
It’s Linda’s birthday! Happy Birthday! These are just a couple of her fun prompts.
#JusJoItJan and One-Liner Wednesday
I found this on Facebook. It still has some wisdom buried there.
Friends, streaming on MAX, by the way, is the best antidepressants.
That’s Carol Burnett singing about my problem.
I can’t even go to town, make phone calls, or answer calls that are not from friends or family. Certainly, even though I took two years of speech, I cannot get up and give a speech. So many things I can’t do because social anxiety can make me all sweaty and shaky. All words leave me.
But I can sing when I have practiced and love the song. I’ve even done some soloing. Just as long as there is a distance between me and the audience, I don’t have to talk to anyone afterward. I’ve loved being in a couple of musicals. Given the chance to exercise my voice and memorize the words, I could work up SHY with gusto. But clap, and I will return to hiding in the corner, reading my books.
Darswords 
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