Troebia's Diary

[Mental Fairy]

Gosh yes, Oak was so valuable with knowledge and looked at things from so many angles. Miss him every time I log on. Same with rivergirl.

[snoringdog]

Hello! A few comments from my Covid-muddled brain. (On the upswing now)

There seems to be nothing truly friendly in between teenage angst and old people's cake recipes.

That gave me a chuckle. What a wasteland then.... say it isn't so!

yeah, really miss Oak

Yes, and I've had a short well-wish message to him stuck in the Outbox (not picked up) since Aug 30. Maybe he'll swing by and see it....

there’s little space left for playfulness, curiosity or exploration

Yeah, that sounds familar to me on the homefront. We're both a little too serious in our interactions. A bit of defensiveness and wariness....

It's sad that this forum is mostly defunct now because it's been filling a gap for me.

Well, we'll be here, to do what we can....

[Mental Fairy]

Absolutely agree we will be here.

Hoping we can get through this year supporting each other best we can

[troebia]

get through this year

That is my existence now, "getting through" and a constant simmering sadness and feeling out of place.

I sincerely wish I could be more positive and helping to others. I did some volunteer work for people in need last year but discovered it takes a special mindset and a truckload of patience with others in an organisation (in this case the Red Cross). A couple of years ago I helped out at the local dog shelter but realised I'm not cut out for seeing that level of suffering. Still, that gnawing guilt of not being useful for something...a skilled profession of some sort...but I'd crash just as I did during my burnout. I can't take responsibility for anything any longer, especially "work". I'm a derailed wagon, an NPC, a character on a quest without purpose. The immense privilege of living in Europe and having health care. And duh, not spending more than what's coming in.

My hearing has become so funky and changing almost every day that I'm starting to ignore it, with all its squealing and ups and downs. I'm not adjusting my earbuds for each side yet out of sheer spite.

I finally finished the winter pruning in the grove and burned almost all the residue. Next up is mildew and fungal treatment but it has to be done after a few days of dry weather. I should also slaughter three of our hens.

Not drinking as much and my gut is feeling less bloated and irritated. There's lots of stuff to do but lately feeling lethargic and exhausted as if I'd climbed a tall mountain. 2 hour daily naps.

I'm ignoring and avoiding MIL as much as possible and it brings me some peace. Sometimes I sense her frustration since she now has her own bedroom and can't dominate the open living room/kitchen space from the couch anymore. Her influence has been reduced to faking a limp, dragging her feet and sighing theatrically on the way to the bathroom, only when I'm within sight of course. Life lesson: I will never permit myself to turn into that kind of despicable person.

[troebia]

Another entry into my lonely diary. Listened the other day to a podcast about diaries and how most (analogue or digital) are lost to history when the author disappears. Somehow I don't mind that this disappears, though it used to bother me more. This server will probably crash and lose all its data sooner or later, according to my experience in IT. Dust in the wind. This is a place to vent, with the words disappearing into oblivion.

I returned to the otologist, who confirmed a slow but steady hearing loss. Oh well. Medical science will not miraculously make hearing recovery possible anytime soon and there is no miracle drug. I'll often listen to talk radio now because the white noise of words helps drown out the interferences in my hearing. Even such a banale thing as the drone of the weather report from Sweden becomes soothing, describing imaginary places to where I float in my imagination. Listening but not listening. Hearing but not hearing.

I have a hard time keeping track of time, and the cycle of the seasons is becoming my most accurate clock, since the tilt of the Earth and nature doesn't care about my feelings or my decaying body. Maybe it's the place and moments where I can be my most grounded self, doing, digging, cutting, planting. I slaughtered two old hens, bought new young ones. Also renewing some old fruit trees that have lost their vigor. Restaurants down at the tourist beach are sleepily touching up their places while awaiting the return of the heat. Am I also waiting for something?

[Mental Fairy]

Thank you for your posts. I’m taking it all in and my heart just breaks in so many ways for you.

Currently in the middle of a mental health workbook and one of the tasks is to set a timer and draw what passion looks like. I thought of your skills immediately and wondered what your drawing would look like, if given to do to do?

[troebia]

draw what passion looks like

If someone had asked me to do this twenty years ago, the drawing would probably represent something sexual, like two intertwined bodies. There is undeniably a lot of energy and (potentially) healing in physical sex.

But there's an even more addictive passion in discovering new sensory terrain. For example, I like the Japanese author Haruki Murakami who creates new miniature universes in each short novel. Also, travelling to a different country will put you into curiosity mode: people are similar but slightly different, and learning about their ways and food can become a sort of passion.

[Mental Fairy]

Interesting point.

I drew the mountain (rather poorly) in the background. Myself standing in a range below covered in tussock.

Being outdoors, in the elements with nothing but yourself to rely on really gets my headspace back in alignment.

[snoringdog]

I drew the mountain (rather poorly) in the background.

You have such a wonderful subject for inspiration!
It's mesmerizing even in the photographs you post.

You can do it! Keep at it!

[Mental Fairy]

Do love that mound of rock, dirt and scoria!