This will be posted in tomorrow's Column on the Company Porch... but I've been really remiss in keeping up with my blog, and it explains things... so I'm posting it here also.

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 “The time has come to speak of many things….of sailing ships and sealing wax…"

From The Walrus and The Carpenter by Lewis Carroll (in Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There, 1872)

I’ve been beyond remiss for the last month or two, and I apologize in not getting my weekly column to the Company Porch for your kind perusal and hopeful edification.

To start the year off on a better foot, I wanted to share what’s been going on with me. That in itself is a bit scary. To open myself up like this makes  me feel extremely vulnerable. But I trust the Lord and I trust my gentle readers will not be throwing stones, small though they may be.

There are a lot of factors that establish my history and lead up to what’s been going on with me since 2005. To give you a brief background:

We live in a 122½ year old house in which the downstairs is barely livable. We moved into this house in 1992, after being homeless and 3½ weeks after I had my emergency C-section, delivering our special needs, second-born son. This house was better than being on the street, even though we never were actually on the street. For more than a month we stayed with various church families. Between the very last of our savings and my husband’s parents’ benevolence, we were able to stay in a motel, which was where we brought our baby “home” from the hospital when he was released.

The house is barely livable downstairs, and so instead of “having and using” a ~2300 sq. ft. house, we’re down to a little over ~600 sq. ft. of space. We’ve never really made enough to get anything remodeled or fixed up. My husband and I do sleep downstairs (a/c window unit, no heat) and our 20 year old son has just moved downstairs (no heat or a/c for him as yet, and in the to-be-dining room), and my mother (moved in with us in 2008) has her own room. She had been sharing a relatively small bedroom with our son until very recently. (It does have ac and recently installed gas heater.) We only have one bathroom (upstairs) and I have a make-shift kitchen upstairs, a very narrow little room, with probably 3’ usable counter space, and a microwave, crockpot, electric skillet, and a small countertop oven. After 17 years of living here, it hasn’t really changed much. (Although now with my mom’s rent, we have bought gas heaters for the two downstairs bedrooms and hope to use that income strictly for house upkeep and remodel.)

I am a Pollyanna by nature. The glass is not half-empty, but is not merely half-full either; it’s about to overflow! That’s how I look at life. I was able to hang on to that for the first 12 years here. In the late summer of 2004, I received whip lash from someone hitting us from behind as we were stopped at a stop sign. That entailed 6-8 weeks of rest. I stopped my daily walks with the dog, cleaning the house, etc. Whenever I tried to do anything other than laying on the couch, it hurt. After I was healed from that, I was hit with asthmatic bronchitis and that took close to a whole month to recover, since I could do little beyond resting and trying to breath. I might have had a week break, but was hit with another upper respiratory illness. And after that, I had several upper respiratory illnesses (all different infections) back to back, or close to it. I was sick, and in essence, "bedridden" on the couch upstairs for close to 6 months. I gained weight. (I had never had weight problems or even had to watch my diet in my whole life before this.) I became extremely sedentary, and I believe that’s when the depression started me on an ever downward spiral. Just getting up in the morning has been difficult. Currently, I am on antidepressants and have been seeing my doctor every two months in the last six months or more.

I have prayed and read my Bible, but I believe that some depressions are not merely a spiritual event. We are body, mind, and spirit. My spirit is well. “It is well with my soul.” My mind is okay, although I’m working hard on making myself be involved in life. Hopefully I will get myself walking the dog on a regular basis soon also. My body, however, has a few problems. I was diagnosed with arthritis in both elbows, with bone spurs in my right elbow. It’s been very painful on a lot of days to even wash my hair or reach for a glass or plate. I’m looking into getting some physical therapy, but the income is fairly scarce.

My husband only had three days of work in December. As a self-employed technician, he works sound for TV shows filmed in the area, movies, documentaries, some networks’ interviews, as well as for conventions and business meetings. No vacation, no sick leave, no “regular” benefits for himself or myself or son. If he doesn’t work, there is no income. My husband has been encouraging me to find employment in some form or other, even part-time. That has been nearly impossible in my current condition with the depression.

I believe that the brain can have a chemical imbalance and it not be connected to a “spiritual problem” exclusively. I believe my depression is based on such a chemical imbalance, as well as coming to the “end of myself” because of our living conditions. Pollyanna has come to the end of her rope.

So, writing a weekly column even semi-regularly has been difficult.  Hopefully next week the doctor and I will find the right combination or dosage levels that will help me to function and along with activity and God’s help, I will be on the road up and out of the pit I’ve been in. 

It’s a new year. By revealing all this to you, my readers, I hope to gain some mercy and grace. I also promise I will do my utmost to give you a column every Friday this year. I will also let you know how I’m doing, because I’m sure I’m not the only one who fights depression. I will see you “here” next week!

May your new year be happy, more like joy-filled since that is based on the Lord, our Rock, and productive. May you be the person you were created to be, and may you give yourself grace in the places where you feel you lack. I’m working on all this myself.

Blessings to you all.  

I did something just for myself tonight....

I stained the mantel I made (2x4 & molding for its front) for my gas heater in the living room. (It's free standing, looks like it has logs in it.) From the antique store from around the corner, I bought a faux stone sheet (in hard plastic) a couple of years ago, I have it on the wall behind the heater to make it look a bit rustic...

The mantel is sitting outside (in the heat -- it's 87 at midnight plus right now), allowing the stain to completely dry. A friend suggested using tung oil to finish it off... I'm not planning to have anything with water on it and I've had this thing for over 2 years sitting and waiting on me to actually DO something with it (cluttering up a very small spot in the living room)... so I amy just put it up tomorrow. I can always take it down and apply the oil later.

At the 2008 annual awards dinner with my dog club, I was awarded "member of the year" and received a nice mantel clock. I had already had a mantel planned, but I'm excited to have it on display.

At the very least, I got up, walked away from the computer, and did something both productive today.

After my last update (earlier today), I thought I'd mention the lovely thing we have to deal with in this old house.

Every year, we have a raccoon that has her litter in our attic and interstitial spaces between the walls and floors.

Her general "home base" is in between the ceiling of our bedroom and the upstairs floor. This means we get a lot of "thumping" noises as her little ones get bigger (spring and early summer). Currently, they are "armful" size, still cute, but definitely larger. And they like to wrestle each other. Most years she has 3 to 4 kits a year. Our upstairs living room window looks out on the roof of the lower portion of the house (where you can step out onto the roof throught the window). When the kits come out they usually come to the window to peer into the house. So we've seen them at all stages of growth. There have been years when we thought the mom had delivered only 2 kits, but then saw the third later on. At least one year it was obvious #3 was the runt of the litter.

This year is a "banner" year. ~ oh. joy. ~ She had FIVE babies! And they all seem to be the same size now, so no runts. There has been a lot more wrestling noises, bumps, and thumping noises. And one side effect we hadn't considered before...the smell!

We live in a 121 year old house and my husband's and my bedroom is downstairs, in the mostly unliveable part--no heat (PTL for electric blankets in the winter) and a window unit A/C. The walls in our room were papered back in the 30s, most likely and my husband had to remove the paper to make sure it was not harboring any bugs, when we decided to start sleeping down there. The walls are made up of planks/boards of wood and many have small gaps between the planks. This goes for the ceiling also. After we moved ourselves down there to sleep, my husband made me a canopy for my bed--it's made of white plastic sheeting and looks rather romantic. It fulfills a much more essential job than just looking romantic, though. It shields us from the debris that falls from the ceiling as well as some liquid that seeps down. Granted (thankfully) it's been several years since I saw any liquid in my canopy, nevertheless I'm very grateful for its existence!  We've not seen any urine this year, but there is most definitely a very musky/musty urine-like scent, esp. if the bedroom has been closed up & un-air-conditioned for the day.

It just doesn't help my overall outlook, I can tell you that... It has been fun to watch the babies outside our window, but the thumps, scratching in the night, and the odor are things I think we could all just live without.

Robin in New Jersey asked, "How are you doing, Donna?"

Aww, thanks for asking, Robin! I hope you won't be sorry you asked!

I'm actually struggling on a lot of different fronts.

In the last 5 years, I have been dealing with depression. In the last couple of years, I thought I was coming out of it, but in actuality I think I have hit rock bottom. Holding on to the very end of the proverbial rope with the tips of my fingers.

My mom moved in last year and that has not really been an issue (on the personal side), but I think it might have added logistically to my depression. After living with us a year, she is still sleeping in my son's room, on the bottom bunk of an L-shape arrangement. Here she is in her "golden years" and she shouldn't have to do that, but we just don't have the funds to add on a room at the back of the house. And at this stage of the game, not even enough to make the dining-room-to-eventually-be liveable. The last few months finances have been so tight, we wonder if we'll have enough to go buy food the next month. God is good, all the time, and we've not had to go without, but we've not been able to pay all our credit card bills. Not good. So there are no funds to go toward the house remodel.

I know that I have a VERY cluttered house at the moment. The upstairs living room is not "company ready" by any measuring stick. I actually stopped doing housework about 5 years ago, so the clutter and the dust bunnies are a bit overwhelming. The house remains unliveable downstairs and after 17 years, I'm at the end of my rope. This house did save us from being homeless and I have fallen in love with its floor plan and potential. Sad thing is we really can't sell it and get another house or go to an apartment because we couldn't get enough to get another house. Also another consideration is that either apartment rent or house payment need ongoing income to cover said payment. We're technically not even close to breaking even, much less coming up with another $800+ to cover rent/mortgage payments.

The times in the past I have been diagnosed as "depressed," it's actually been "clinical depression" meaning that there was a chemical imbalance in my brain. I never felt sad or hopeless, never felt like just sitting and crying... might have been a bit immobilized in trying to dig out and through the house clutter, but never truly "sad." I can say that I have definitely hit that stage and that I feel depressed. I don't feel suicidal--don't really believe that is ever an option. Suicide places so much on those who are left behind and there are ALWAYS options other than killing oneself. So I'm not suicidal, but I am definitely feeling sad and hopeless. (I guess my Pollyanna personality could only handle so much, and 17 years was my limit---knew I was getting close to my limit after 12 years.)

I did see my doctor for my yearly physical Monday this week, and he has prescribed an antidepressant. (I've been having insomnia issues also, so I'm grateful that this particular drug helps me to get to sleep and stay asleep.) I've talked to my pastor and have an appointment with him next week to see if I can have counseling with him or if he thinks I may need more "long-term" care. If so, he will help me find someone I can see for the little bit we might be able to scape together.

So there's the story from Lake Wobegone, where all the women are strong, all the men are good-looking, and all the children are above average.

I hope you aren't sorry you asked, Robin!

My mil, Carlene Conner, went to be with the Lord sometime last night, peacefully.

We rejoice that she is now Home, in His Presence. Her race was completed.

Thank you for your prayers and thoughts.

it's been hard to make time to write on my blog....

I saw this online and thought I'd share... Having a dog is indeed "good medicine" for whatever ails you.

Watch CBS Videos Online

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Thanks to Dot --

I have to name 6 things for which I am thankful and pass it on to 6 other bloggers. So here goes....

6 things for which I am thankful (for the record I could name 1 million more things):