Languish Un-gunked

Posted: July 5th, 2014 | Author: | Filed under: Today's Blessing, Uncategorized | Tags: , , | No Comments »

Hurray!! Officially, as of yesterday, my creative chunk of the Universe realigned itself. After months of creatively languishing away in a writer’s block … After choosing a committed session of writing on the blog over having dinner with my dad at an Indian restaurant that we’ve wanted to dine at for well over 10 years now … I went to write on the blog on Tuesday, only to find that the web site was broken. And I mean broken! Say, “What Universe?”

A huge thank you goes out to my heart-sister, Wombat, for fixing the web site. You are the most luscious geekette ever, lovely one!

It looks like I will have several days worth of writing ahead of me. Today 500+ words just flowed out. It feels wonderful! The first rough draft of the intro to “Survivor Depression Deconstructed” is done. Tomorrow, onto digging into some nitty-gritty stuff. Make more art.

Find a blessing a day, it’s there. =;o)

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Constructive Barking

Posted: April 21st, 2014 | Author: | Filed under: Uncategorized | Comments Off

Ever since having an allergic reaction to the Shingles vaccine shot in July of 2013, my health and well being has been in a tailspin. I’ll spare you the numerous hospital and ER visit details. The last 10 months had some fantastic bright spots along with some very dark bleak spots. Let’s just say this past winter was a rough one and I’m very thankful to embrace this year’s spring and summer seasons.

All of the various health issues seems to have caused my Fibromyalgia to really flare up, badly. I’ve been experiencing a lengthy bout of tremendous constant physical pain. That in of itself was beginning to wear me down. My family and loved ones have been asking me if I’m okay. Being uncharacteristically quiet seems to have raised some red flags.

Here is my public response and explanation(s) — my barking. It seems that I am apparently going through a bout of depression. I haven’t gone through one in decades. Lengthy health issues and then losing nearly seven relationships within 1-1/2 months time has seemingly taken a huge tole upon my spirit. I handled each relationship loss (as it happened) in an accepting logical manner. But when you pile everything all up, it seems my spirit has taken it all as a tidal wave of rejection and exhaustion– knocking me off of my gratitude coping keel.

Then pile on a big dollop of guilt for being creatively gummed up — personally, and in some collective creative endeavors — I’m, well …  scattered, depleted.

But you know what? This past week (after a well-meaning friend chewed me out for being depressed), I realized I needed to “bark”in one shot — explain myself. Here it is … I’m actually okay with being depressed. I am still grateful for all that I do have in my life. I’m still that gratitude gal. But, depression (anger turned inwards) is what it is.

Everyone has their limits. I rediscovered my aberrant people coping line in the sand. To the people who are getting upset with my temporary depressive status … Sorry if my limits of being able to brush off other people’s aberrant behavior has temporarily reached it’s limits. Sorry if my health issues have finally gotten the better of me. That my soul needs to gasp for air, to replenish itself. Sorry if all of this has upset your need for me to be your constant bedrock of positivity. I’m human. Go figure.

On a positive note, the more I relax into the reality of being angry, disappointed, worn down and lonely — the lighter it, the depression, seems to become.

But, if my depression upsets the collective “you”? Guess what, “you” can kiss my depressed ass. How’s that for coping?

Woof. Woof.

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Private Little Quote Gone Loud

Posted: February 6th, 2014 | Author: | Filed under: breast cancer, mastectomy, Uncategorized | Comments Off

Most everyone in my inner-circle knows that on October 21, 2013, my journey through breast cancer  was blessed with a most beautiful gift of closure — tattoos to cover my mastectomy scars. Thanks to Personal P.INK’s premiere mastectomy scar tattooing event in New York City.

Yesterday, I got to watch a video clip of a South Carolina television reporter interview my beloved tattoo artist, Shannon of Indigo Rose Tattoo Studio, about that event. She not only did a great job with that interview, she’s on her way to California to be interviewed on “The Doctors.” So proud of her!

After watching the news video clip I realized that I hadn’t fully absorbed my tattooing experience though. Or, just how deeply significant is has turned out to be within my life and possibly others.

I apologize for not knowing how to embed the video of that interview into this blog article … A link here will just have to suffice.

Tattoo Artists Use Ink to Help Breast Cancer Patients video link

After watching the news video to the very end, I had the strangest reaction …  Ms. Pragmatic; roar back into the face of cancer; “Buck It Up, Sunshine”; crying ain’t gonna change a damn thing, so keep moving on — well, that gal? She broke down into humbled and honored tears, nearly uncontrollably so.

It was sort of odd to hear my name said on television; hear snippets of my story being told; know that photographs of my tattoos were viewed by strangers. But I had willingly signed a release form allowing all of that to take place.

What unexpectedly hit me hard, moved me to my core, was watching another woman — a professional, trained to hold her emotions intact, a news anchorwoman — have to check her emotions when she heard a reporter repeat my most intimate of intimate moments in my entire breast cancer journey. My heartfelt response to Shannon upon seeing my tattoo for the first time in the mirror that day. “It’s not ugly anymore [my breast]. I’m not ugly anymore.”

What you need to realize is that right before I said that to Shannon, my brain had to do a triple check at the reflection of me in the mirror — it didn’t, at all, recognize who it was looking at. My left breast was covered in plastic wrap while an anesthetic cream was soaking into my scar tissue on that breast. Only my right breast, with the new lace demi-cup bra tattoo, was visible. My brain literally did not recognize who it was looking at.

There was no longer a hideous 8″ scar spanning a breast to instantaneously recognize as a marker … “Scar. Oh, that’s Chérie.” In a flash of a second, I recognized what my brain had done.

I turned to speak to Shannon but deep emotion welled up into my throat. I heard myself choking back tears of humbled gratitude, totally indescribable joy and inexplicable reverence. I can still see Shannon’s serene and focused face looking up at me, looking with anticipation of what I thought.  A hushed and quiet voice came out of me, “It’s not ugly anymore. I’m not ugly anymore.”

After watching the news interview, hearing repeated that quiet little moment that changed my whole life, I now realize it has the capability of  wafting sweetly within our  breast cancer survivor’s community.

You can feel beautiful again, lovely one. You deserve to feel beautiful again. It is possible. There are people willing to help make that possible for you.
Honest, lovely one. Honest.

 

But more importantly? I now realize that my private little quote has the capability of ringing loudly throughout our medical communities.  A private little quote gone public. A private little quote gone loud … for the collective good. It desperately needs to be heard.

“It’s not ugly anymore. I’m  not ugly anymore.”

Thank you for donating to Personal P.INK.

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