Jacqui (jacqui) wrote,

Art Bell, Grief, Mom, Medications and a Shaking Ferret

Did anyone listen to Art Bell last night? I wanted to try rubbing crystals together in a dark room, and then underwater, but I was already in bed. Although I think I heard the guest say that he worked for years in animal research, that would make him an @$$hole in my book, so I can't take anything he says seriously. He sounded so interesting and groovy alternative 'till that moment, then I just hated him and kind of tuned him out.

I've been really depressed, can't get going, don't want to leave my house, the phone calls, mail, and e-mail have piled up. I haven't had a shower in several days. I know I'm grieving but I also feel sick and weird. I'm going to try to get a few things done without pushing myself too hard today.

I have this impulse to call my Mother to look for comfort, but even though she tries, she's too wrapped up in her anxiety to really be present anymore. The first thing she said when I called to tell her that Tick died was something like, "Oh good, that's one less," and tried to figure out how many cats I have by subtracting one from her imagined figure. Although when I told her firmly, as if I were talking to a child, "Mom I need you to be my Mother right now, I'm looking for sympathy." She said "Oh, I'm sorry," and seemed to get it. I think she needs to take medication but she doesn't believe in psychiatry or psychology and calls antidepressants feel good pills. It sounds absurd but in a way I understand her, can we all of us really need to be on so many medications? Or is it like that episode of the Twilight Zone where the one pretty girl is thought to be monstrously ugly, and has to have this operation so she'll look like everyone else, only in our case, we're all trying to look alike internally. This is my constant consideration, does my taking pills to mute the sadness and the pain, mute my creative expression as well? I hardly write poetry anymore, I haven't acted in a long while, I don't collage. This is my biggest creative outlet and although I love it here, it isn't enough really. Oh well, I'll be debating this forever, let's just move on.

I'm worried about one of my ferrets he's shaking a bit so I have to find a doctor who will treat ferrets. I wonder if Northbay will. There is one doctor I'd go to but I still owe him money. I can't tell if he's shivering or purring. It's just one thing after the other when you take on too many animals to love. It could be something as simple as his being bored and having too much pent up energy that he needs to run off. I'll let him get some exercise and look around on line, sigh.

I have to be careful not to spend too much time here today because I can so easily get caught up in reading your journals and then nothing gets done in the more tangible world.

You know sometimes I feel like this jester here. I worry that my sadness and grieving bothers people, that it's relentless and depressing, one sad thing after another. I thought, you should go get a nude picture, give the people what they want. Okay.

Whoops, he's not naked. No, but it's pretty.

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