Gardening

The past week and a half has brought us dark days with thunderstorms and rain. I sulked. I was happy that I didn’t have to spend a half hour each day outside soaking the newly planted vegetable beds with water from the leaky hose. Yet, the gray light, filtering through white, plastic blinds in the colorless cave called our living room, felt like the river Lethe had risen in a fog and come to suffocate the living.

At the very least, that was what it felt like to me. On the first day, I wore my bright red AmeriCorps Public Allies hoodie, thinking it would somehow offset the muddled mood of the day. I put on pink, dirtied garden gloves, filled my jean pockets with packets of seed, and headed outside into the wet mist. The thoughts in my head sludged between the desire to cocoon in my bed, or doing something productive, something I had planned on doing since the dirt had been delivered for my garden beds. Poking holes into the bloated mix of topsoil and compost, I sowed seeds next to wooden popsicle sticks sharpied with names like “Strawberry corn,” “Sylvetta arugula,” and “Chioggia beets.” I moved mechanically, moving just to keep active, in hopes I could brighten my day through sheer will, that my planting would bring the sun out.

Dave came outside to see me, no doubt noticing my somber mood. I leaned into him for a hug, and felt tears spill over the bottom lids of my eyes.

“Why are you crying?” He asked in a soft tone.

“I don’t know.” I really didn’t.

Life, continued

It’s been almost a year since I’ve written here. I wish I had continued to chronicle my thoughts and experiences throughout the year as I recover from the downward spiral of depression and anxiety. I spent several months on citalopram and ristoril. Citalopram, also known as Celexa, is an SSRI. I had wanted Ativan, or something that could quell bouts of anxiety when they occurred. My doctor convinced me to take the SSRI, believing it to be the better treatment. Eventually, I asked for a sleeping medication, because the anxiety mostly visited me at night and disturbed my sleep, even with the SSRI. Ristoril was exactly what I was looking for – a drug that helped you to feel sleepy, but didn’t knock you out.

It helped big time. I still had anxiety issues, but nothing so wholly overwhelming as before. I could sleep. On top of that, I was accepted into AmeriCorps. This meant job security in a new, engaging environment, along with health benefits.

I moved in with my lover. I had swore not to live with anyone else unless I was sure we were going to get married. My lover wanted me to move in with him, and I resisted at first. Not because I didn’t think we would get married, but because we hadn’t really discussed it. I loved him, he loved me, but I didn’t want to get halfway settled down with someone just to move again if we were at odds. I was looking at apartments near my new job with AmeriCorps. He lived in the next town over.

I took the chance, though. I knew he was devoted. He had never lived with one of his partners before, so I knew he was serious about us.

We’re still living together, and we’ve had several discussions on options and ideas for our future together. He wants to marry me. I love him. We have a great thing going.

Moving an hour away from where I was has had its consequences. I see two of my closest friends once a month or every other month. Another group of friends that were dear to me have been slipping away. It’s been difficult to maintain the relationship I had with my younger sister. At first, I felt isolated at times. My lover introduced me to his friends who are all pleasant enough people, but I wanted my own friends. I wanted to build my own network. I know friendships are important for addressing a personal tendency to depression and anxiety. I have developed relationships with co-workers, and with his friends. I have done my best to stay in touch with old friends. I am still working on “outside relationships” with other young professionals and other artists in the area. By that, I mean, I am keeping an eye out for people to connect with and cultivate those connections.

I am also focused on my day-to-day doings and hobbies. I like to keep a fairly clean house. I have created two large vegetable beds and a container garden that is providing me with hours of delight and a sense of accomplishment. I have been more active in my art studio as I prepare to start a new side business. I am making plans for my future regarding further education and a career in the non-profit sector. I have been accepted into a summer AmeriCorps program to produce a play for teenagers. I have also been accepted into a second year of the AmeriCorps program I am currently in. This means more money for education, and more opportunities for learning and growth while remaining in service. As a bonus, I will continue to have health insurance.

I am no longer taking medications. I have the occasional anxious day or night. I have mood swings. I have taken to exercising and eating healthier to help deal. I count my blessings. I have a sweet life. I remind myself of these things.

Also important, I create new blessings. I put in the work to have a fulfilling experience in AmeriCorps, and to continue in the program. I am planning and putting into place the steps to graduate school. I have taken steps toward utilizing my art skills as a way to make money again. I cultivate a meaningful relationship with my lover, and I work to make myself a better person. I splurged and created a garden I could feel proud of. I try to do little things each day that build to great things. I am planning a life, and letting go of old plans that don’t work.

It’s a journey. A journey that I can co-create.