I don’t do things halfway and when I go low, I go low. Take no prisoners, lethal sort of low.
My face couldn’t couldn’t get out of the way soon enough and so I made a minor mess of it. If you’ve never picked your skin you wouldn’t understand, but if you have, you know. Damned if you do, but in some sick way, self damage is an amazing way to relieve stress. However, just like alcohol, it tends to make things worse the following day.
That said, my mood is on the upswing. Sometimes when you hit bottom you bounce. I plan to take that momentum to propel me forward into some healthier activities. Writing (I’m on a roll), working on my health insurance, going to the gym and yes, painting.
It’s been a long time since I’ve held a brush but my easel beckons. And getting my art on might just be the perfect antidote to much of what ails me.
That, and the always amazing outpouring of love and support that a post brings–both here and on Facebook. Thank you. Know that every message goes straight to my heart in the best of all ways and that as alone as I feel at times, I’m really not. Because I’ve got all of you. ❤
life and breath: outliving lung cancer 
Linnea.. I meant to reply to your two previous posts. I planned on it and thought about what I would say, because I, too, have been sinking into a depression and I too am usually an eternal optimist. I wanted to say that hearing what you’ve been experiencing made me feel at once “not alone” and also put my pain and anxiety in perspective. Really it did. I so appreciate you sharing because it helped me, and like you, today I’ve had a bounce. The horrible weight that’s been strangling my heart has loosened its grip and I’m able to walk through the day without the fear and anxiety I’ve been feeling around, basically, love and relationships and my seeming inability to ever succeed at them, even at 44 years old. One thing I do know how to do is walk through pain, and even though I didn’t really believe it, I heard voices in my head saying this too shall pass. This too SHALL pass, so I kept walking, enduring the discomfort, and it did. A few circumstantial things happened to make it better as well, but not really anything outstandingly amazing. Anyway, I just wanted to chime in and say thank you – and that I’m glad you’re feeling better – and I hope you continue to do so that you can enjoy the day, the week, as much as humanly possible. Love you! xoxo
Julia, I love you. And I also know that life is not fair. Otherwise, someone as fabulous as you would have found true love by now. Let’s make a date—compare some notes here. I, like you, am rich in friendships but have found that one special relationship elusive. Much of life is chance–always remember that.
xo Linnea
I had wanted to post a comment to your last post and never got around it. No doubt there are a number of people like me and Julia who were moved by your words but hadn’t said so (yet!). So glad to hear of the upswing in your mood. Love how honest and open you are with us, you are such an inspiration to all of us to be real. Have fun with the painting and thanks for being you. All of you.
Thank you Robin. I think I have established a personal precedence for candor, so real it shall remain.
xo Linnea
So glad you’re on the ‘UP’
I and everyone else cares ❤️
Thank you Leslie 🙂
xo Linnea
Love you dear. I wish I could make it all better, but the one thing I’ve learned in life is that I can’t. So we take another step forward, and another one after that. “Semper avante” – forever forward. The depression, fear, loneliness and pain are all real, but they’re only there to make the elation at being alive, the courage to run down the hill at full speed, the bliss of feeling loved and in love, and the joy of less painful days all the more meaningful. Now, wait, can I come up with a cliche or two? Hang in there! The grass is always greener? Tomorrow will be? Nah. Shit. We’re still alive, and living ain’t always easy, and it certainly isn’t always pretty. But I do love you.
Jim, being on this side of the grass is good but not necessarily easy. And I thank you for your love, friendship and support. I shall find those happier pastures once again.
xo Linnea
Your comment “self damage is an amazing way to relieve stress” really hit home. I suppose my self damage usually involves food and plenty of it!! I was anorexic in my late teens (condition didn’t have a name then). When I got away from home and off to college, anorexia went away and my voracious appetite returned. I’ve been lucky in that my metabolism has always kept weight in check. Anyway, now when the lung cancer thingee and other stressors overwhelm me, I head for food that I know is not good for me. Instead of “daintily” scarfing down a couple of peanut butter sandwiches at home, I will go toDairy Queen and get their largest ice cream concoction or Popeyes for a bucket of fried chicken. I will eat until I make myself sick.
What is so hard for me is the inability to make long range plans. I am an eight year survivor of lung cancer, but the monster is still there although being quiet… and growing very little. How does one make any long-range plans? I would love to spend my remaining years in a state where “Death with Dignity” statutes are in place. Colorado would be my choice. My Louisiana born and bred husband would not like this but would do it for me. However, what if my cancer suddenly turns on me and I only last a year or so…………….
I am digressing – sorry.
Linnea, I’m so
happy that you are bouncing back and returning to things that make you happy.
😘😘😘
Long term plans – if only!! – “What if my cancer suddenly turns on me?” – Understand that
Mary, there are so many ways to feed the pain/hurt/anxiety. And I feel you on the long range plan thing–something that is difficult for my healthy friends/family to comprehend. It is all so incredibly complicated.
xo Linnea
I’m still quietly here for you. Remember that you have a village behind you.
Thank you Craig. I hear you. Quietly 😉
xo Linnea
It’s really a high time to thank you Linnea for your blog. I’m just an imago in comparison with you and the guys here in the comments; I’ve been diagnosed two and a half months ago and already had a chance for full immersion into one or two abysses of the mind. Thank you for your beauty and power, and honesty, and expanse of your being. Shashi