Serenade

It seems Kerwin sings for more than his lonely heart.

Perched on the couch, as I drowned myself in tea, I let the t.v. entertain the dogs (as it wasn't doing much for me) this morning. It was in that sleepy moment when the pug of our house guests was swept up into the music... of the Clorox commercial.

I surmised the tune was somehow special. The same subtle pings of the laundry machine hidden beneath guitar melody perked both mine and his ears - nearly driving both of us batty! I couldn't help finding his reaction amusing. I mean, what a voice this doggy has! He can hold a note forever in perfect pitch. A siren song of sorts. As impressed as I am, his fellow canines looked at him as if he was daffy.
...I guess everyone is a critic these days.

Came and went

Part of me is feeling better. I'm finally able to get a few things done around here. But I'm still struggling.

These days are spent dog-sitting. I'm serenaded by the mournful song of poor Kerwin missing his parents. The same sad croon whenever Darrel has to go.

Summer's warmth has come to an end. An odd pre-autumn has settled in. A chill without the frost or changing color of leaves. The weather almost as unsure as I am about the role we're playing.

A familiar road

Why does antidepressant withdrawal make things feel worse? I'm integrating the new med I'm switching to into the mix so it shouldn't be a problem, one would think. It isn't a new experience for me, but certainly a challenging one. Oh yes... it's just the beginning.

Little Amelie tries to keep me company when rest seems impossible. I tell her night-time is for sleeping, as the tap of her toenails pace the floor. At least Darrel doesn't need to be awake, his patience waring. But my mind keeps on racing.

The sky these days is stark grey, so much like how I'm feeling. What I like to think is that like the weather, my mood will change... in hours, days, perhaps even weeks - nomatter how fleeting.

The answer is often found under the cap of a Jones Soda

'A new chapter in your life is being written'

Finally, after a lot of denial and avoidance on my part - I am switching meds. There is a riddle of reasons why. It had become hard to face the usual things. Like a neglected blog, stacks of dishes, piles of laundry, badly behaved dogs, my creative attempts seeming nothing more than a mess than art, friends drifting apart, the new white hair much like a cow-lick, wary of time to marry or nest as it's quickly passing.

I waited and contemplated (make that surrendered and endured) hoping I would snap out of this funk. I wanted to ride out the bad time as just another trip on life's moody roller coaster. An ache gnawed at my gut and the constant fear that I deserved the pain and guilt I was feeling. When I tried to move forward the motivation would wash away too quickly.

I stopped writing. I didn't feel interesting, just crazy. Obviously, because my life's full of wonderful people and good things. I found it hard to enjoy much when my brain was filled with self insult. I became tired all the time. I guess all that loathing and brooding was hard work. Instead of talking about it, I became silent. After all, I was under the impression there was nothing worthy to share. Who would listen when even I was exhausted by my own melodrama and complaints. I felt I failed and hated to admit it. Who wants to be a disappointment?

Yesterday I summoned the courage to see my Pdoc after so long. And with that a new regime begins. Changes to make things better and stop hiding. So here I am. And here is somewhere, isn't it?

But just what will the future hold for you? Get your handy under the cap fortune