Something Personal.

This week has had its ups and downs. Anxiety has a way of skewing one's view of the world. Sometimes I just need reminding of the wonderful friends and family I have. Thank you all.

Something Personal.

Sometimes the black dog howls. Its lies overwhelm me,
doubt and anxiety take hold.
Self confidence leaks away.
Does anyone know I exist?
I am alone.

I sit in chaos, claustrophobic clutter.
The world constricts me,
consumes me.
Does anyone care?

A blank page stares back, mocking me,
accusing me of failure,
pathetic, useless, unwanted.
Am I fooling myself?

A tinkle of the door bell, a knock rouses me.
An unexpected, smiling face,
Words of friendship, a gift.
A stranger asks how I'm faring,
Am I still writing?
They want to know more.

A house full of well-wishers, of friends and family
Of smiles and hugs, unconditional.
Conversation, music
and most of all,
Love.

  • Art/Photography:  I've designed the final poster for the Viola Stewart series... It arrived this week. Look for this at events.
  • Costume:  I've been helping our daughter make patterns for her current costume project.
  • Writing/Reading: Another scene rewritten, another edited. Then a hiccup - pinched nerve in my arm(but kept going. Taking a break today, to celebrate the anniversary of my arrival into this world. PS. I suck at poetry. Apologies.

Other little Green Men:  I have such cool friends. I'm working my way through a mountain of goat's cheese, dark chocolate and board games. I have  a new tea to taste and the most gorgeous purple orchid brightening up the kitchen. Huzzah Words and photography ©2017 Karen Carlisle. All rights reserved.

Photo Friday: Updates, Surprises and Fortuitous Finds.

A few weeks ago I had a fall and damaged my spectacles. Since then, my anxiety levels had been escalating; just contemplating returning to an optometrist was bringing on palpitations. (It had been three years since I had  new specs and my vision had changed - due to avoidance. ) But I defied the Black Dog and collected my new pair yesterday. (Thank you to my Dearheart for providing emotional support.) Huzzah. I can read comfortabley (and breathe) again.

  

On a happier note: This was delivered this week. We'd found a discrepancy in a pack of pretzels (nothing horrendous, just some cooked dough that had bypassed the production line).  Thank you Smiths for a lovely surprise.

This week's opshop treasures include some Nerf guns and a 'fart blaster' - all destined for steampunking up for future costume projects - and a book on Early Settlers' Household Lore, with hints and recipes from 19th century Australian sources (perfect to add to my research pile for an upcoming writing project.)

I have a new photo app now I have my phone back in one piece - so I've been tinkering.

And lastly, I've been making some new signs for future events.

Photos ©2017 Karen Carlisle. All rights reserved.

Plan B

I've been struggling this week - well a couple of months really -  trying to keep from drowning in anxiety. News and social media has bombarded us with images of recent horrific events and celebrity deaths. More recently there have been almost-tragedies closer to home. My mind has been chattering away, creating worst-case scenarios, second guessing, panicking me into petrified inactivity. One of my triggers is empathy. I find myself crying (I mean really bawling my eyes out) over news stories - a lost child (their parents must be worried), a car crash (and the devastation of those left behind), a terrorist attack (how could someone hate others so much). The pain manifests itself as palpitations, muscular spasms, migraines... The list goes on. It's one of the reasons I had to quit my old career. I'd come home and worry . I'd worry about my patients, worry about missing things, worry about dealing with the company powers-that-be. I've tried cognitive therapy, relaxation, mindfulness and hypnotherapy. (I reacted badly to meds.) But it is difficult to turn off the reason why I started that career and the very thing that spurred me to stay in the job, years longer than I should have. Writing helps. I can channel that empathy. How do my characters feel? What will they do? What was the thinking behind that? But sometimes it gets all too much. Even the writing freezes up. Then I retreat into books and get lost in their pages. But even that escape has been thwarted recently. When I was ill I tripped, damaging my spectacles. As a result, reading is a chore and brings on migraines. (Have you tried reading with askew progressive lenses? argh!) So it's plan B for now. I have a list of vaguely-writing-related movies - some inspiring, some just a bit of fun. Some are, well, dubious but, nevertheless, contribute to pulling me out of my funk. Yesterday I pried open my current WIP box and picked up a pencil. I thought I'd share my current list with you:
  • Anonymous
  • A man for all seasons
  • Eat, Pray, Love
  • Ghostwriter
  • Confessions of a Shopaholic
  • Bright Star
  • Cinderella Pact
  • The Devil Wears Prada
  • Inkheart
  • Julie and Julia
  • Authors Anonymous
  • Music and Lyrics
  • Shakespeare in Love
  • The Rewrite
  • Becoming Jane
  • Miss Potter
  • Under the Tuscan Sun
  • Bridget Jones Diary
  • Never Been Kissed
  • Little Women
  • Love Actually
  • Paperback Hero
  • Sliding Doors
  • So I Married An Axe Murderer
  • Sleepless in Seattle
  • Romancing the Stone series
  • Magic Beyond Words: The JK Rowling Story
So now you know one of my deep, dark secrets. Please don't judge me.