A Year in the Life

I love Flickr.

There are so many creative and wonderful people who share amazing photos. Whether they’re straight out of the camera or edited to look out of this world, I love to look at people’s images.

After all, a picture IS worth a thousand words.

Flickr has many groups and projects to get you out of a photography rut. One of those projects is 365.

365 photos. A photo of yourself, in some form or fashion, every day for a year. I have tried this project twice and failed. Well, maybe not failed. But I stalled. I got lazy. Toward the end of both rounds, I was taking photos of me sitting on the couch. Every. Night. I was boring myself, and probably everyone else in Flickrland.

Blue in mid kiss. And, yes, I am grabbing my boob.

I started the 365 project again yesterday. Yesterday was Blue’s birthday, the first dog that Lee and I adopted from Austin Pets Alive. She was named Priscilla then, and she looked much older even though she was only 6. (OK, that’s 42 in dog years, but 40 is the new 20, right?

We’ve had her a year. In that time she has made me laugh, cry, and fall in love all over again. She’s also gained 8 pounds. 🙂

This time I want to use the photos to tell my story. My ups, my downs, my accomplishments, my failures, everything.

I’m hoping that telling a story will help to inspire me to make it all the way through 365. And I’m looking forward to seeing what my last photo will be. I’m hoping I will have grown emotionally. That I will have been able to take photos outside of my comfort zone.

If you want to see my photos on Flickr, my username is mersidotes.

After all, third time’s a charm. Right?

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She’s In There, Somewhere

Fighting for truth and justice

That’s me. I rocked the Wonder Woman Underoos, didn’t I?

I wouldn’t say I was fearless, but up until puberty I went on plane rides by myself, put on lip-synched Alvin and the Chipmunks concerts for my neighbors, and defeated Carrot Man with my bare hands. (Thanks for putting up with me, Uncle George.)

I’ve been the opposite of that girl for a long time. I thought she would reemerge when Effexor initially worked for me and I was able to leave Huntsville.

For a while I’ve been hiding out, the complete opposite of the carefree girl and her crazy poses. I’ve lost interest in everything.

Sure, I’ve started going to a pub quiz once a week and I’ve found a bit of comfort in playing the piano again, but otherwise I don’t do anything.

Nothing.

No knitting, spinning, dyeing, writing. No helping my husband with cleaning our beautiful home. No taking pride in myself.

On the weekends, I sleep. During the week, I can’t get to sleep at night.

I feel overmedicated and undermedicated at the same time.

I said that to my psychiatrist yesterday. I also talked about symptoms that I hadn’t admitted to before.

Obssessive Compulsive Disorder symptoms, such as getting a song lyric stuck in my head…running over and over like my iPod is on repeat. Another symptom I deal with is called “morbid obsessions,” where in one instant I can look at something or someone and see myself doing something terrible. Images that horrify me.

We’ve come up with a plan that will hopefully help me with sleep and lift my mood, but it’s started rough. I was up for most of the night. When I was able to sleep, I had awful images of my ex not leaving me alone.

When I got to work this morning, I was shaky and nauseated. I didn’t know if I could make it through the day. I wanted to. I needed to. And I did.

Having work to focus on has been my saving grace. Yes, I’m grateful for the time Lee and I spend together, but to be totally immersed in a project has helped me get through each week as well. There are times when I don’t want to get out of bed, but I know I have to because I have coworkers who are confident in my abilities and let me know I’m appreciated.

Today of all days I needed something to distract me, and being around my coworkers helped.

There was also a phone call from my dad. I had let him know that I had gone to the psychiatrist and he called to check up on me. I got to hear the joy in his voice when he talked about his puppy, Wally, and the sadness when he talked about me.

“I just wonder what happened to that girl who was happy and lived life to the fullest,” he said.

“She’s in there, somewhere, Dad. I just have to find a way to bring her back.”